


happier

by peraltiaghoe



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Divorce, F/M, Heavy Angst, Infertility, Please Don't Hate Me, Sad, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Why am I so ANGSTY?, ahhhhhh, angst hole, it'll be okay tho, or try to at least idk, trust me - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2020-07-10 14:14:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 70,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19907044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peraltiaghoe/pseuds/peraltiaghoe
Summary: Jake and Amy navigate struggles in their marriage.Recurring theme TW: Pregnancy loss.Work title from Happier, Marshmello ft. Bastille.Plan is for this to be a multi-chap, so stay tuned if you don't hate me too much. ¨̮





	1. know that means i'll have to leave

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, all. 
> 
> So, so, so much love. Know that I'm still updating HYGIM (probably two chapters left!!) but this angst has been on my mind off and on for a few weeks, and I finally started working on it. 
> 
> Bear with me. 
> 
> Chapter title also from Happier by Marshmello ft. Bastille. 
> 
> _And only for a minute, I want to change my mind cause this just don't feel right to me._  
>  _I want to raise your spirits, I want to see you smile._  
>  _Know that means I'll have to leave._

She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when it happened. 

She wanted so badly to love him. She swore that she did. 

It was moments like tonight when it would hit her, how wrong everything somehow turned out. She was lying in bed when he got home. He was home late again. The case he had been working on had been keeping him late almost every night for the past few weeks. A few days had passed before she even realized that she hadn’t been missing his presence the way that she always used to. 

She was still awake when he crawled into their bed, hands scaling her body as he moved to pull her closer. She didn’t stir, pretending to be asleep so she could avoid the conversation that she couldn’t bring herself to walk through the motions of. 

His fingers lingered on her back for a moment, hesitantly inching their way up her shirt. He quickly unclasped the bra that she had forgotten to remove in the haste of getting to bed at a reasonable time. He guided the straps off of her arms and pulled the fabric away from her, tossing it to the side. An arm draped over her side pulled her closer as he took his place as the big spoon. Soft kisses fell upon her face, her hairline, her cheek, until she found herself turning toward the kisses. 

He loved her exactly the way she needed to be loved. He was quiet in the moments she needed silence, strong for her when she needed him to hold her. He remembered things when she would forget. In a moment of stress, he’d text her to double check that she’d taken her medication. He’d gotten in the habit of leaving her notes on the refrigerator, first about important events and reminders, but now as more of a reminder that she wasn’t going through all of this alone. He had all of her heart, and he worked tirelessly to protect it, whether that meant shielding her from oncoming pain or simply removing her bra while she was sleeping so that it didn’t hurt her the next day. 

So why, then, did she feel this way? She turned toward him, pressing her hand against his chest as she kissed him. His mouth had always been larger than hers, but his lips had always felt like home. The kisses that once made her feel free now made her feel suffocated. She was gasping for air, but not because the kiss had gotten too heated. She was rendered unable to breathe by some other force, a force that had nothing to do with the way Jake kissed her in this moment. 

Or maybe it had everything to do with that. 

She worked to match his pace. She knew that she loved him. Of course she loved him. But when she said that before, she meant that she loved him in a way that set her entire world on fire. She was burning at his touch and even when he was away, the flames burned for him, desire in her heart and body for the man who had lit the match for her. Now when she said she loved him, it felt as though she was talking about her favorite old t-shirt. He was comforting and she loved having him around. Of course, she couldn’t imagine losing him. She had so many memories with him, he had been around for so much. But that wasn’t the kind of love that Jake deserved. That wasn’t the kind of love she had promised him. 

She fell out of love with him much in the same way that she had fallen in love with him: slowly and without a deliberate decision. If it had simply been her choice, she wouldn’t be in this situation. She would be with him, happy, and loving every moment of it, if it were that simple. But instead she lay in bed, desperate to feel the passion and adoration that used to stain every inch of her when he kissed her like this. 

Instead she was thinking about whether or not he could tell that she hesitated when she kissed back. Things had gotten so fucked up. And she wasn’t even sure if Jake knew the extent of all of it. All she wanted was to duck into his arms and let him hold her. The problem was that even when he did this, clouds of doubt and confusion loomed over her. When he would ruffle his fingers through her hair and kiss her forehead, it didn’t do anything to quell the fears that had been long building inside of her. It seemed to simply intensify her anxiety. 

She had no problem responding to him physically. He was still Jake. He still knew her body better than even she did. He still knew exactly what she needed. His touch still quickly sent her crashing over the edge. He never lost the ability to completely unravel her at the touch of his fingertips. But even the sex had its problems. 

Take now, for example. He was pressing kisses against her skin, lower and lower. Something that used to get her intoxicated on him and him alone, but that now left her staring at the ceiling, eyebrows drawn together in thought. How did it get this way? 

Rewind to months earlier. The first time she can remember really resenting him was during their morning commute to work. She was in full uniform, while Jake was wearing his typical flannel-and-hoodie combo. A man approached Amy frantically, asking if she knew where he could find a police officer. She glanced at him with a confused look, then looked down at her uniform. She was clearly a uniformed officer. Jake had been a few paces behind her and when he walked into the room, the man immediately took Jake in. 

“Sir, you’re a police officer, right?” 

“Yeah, I’m a detective.” 

“I’m in uniform!” Amy exclaimed, receiving confused looks from both men. She scoffed and walked away, allowing Jake to deal with the man’s problem. 

The situation didn’t come back up until they were working that sexual assault case later in the week. When she brought it up to Jake, he mentioned that he hadn’t even noticed a lot of the situations that she was faced with as a woman. He was very apologetic and assured her that he would try harder. She didn’t immediately feel the resentment. It came later. The next time Amy was faced with a similar moment, a man leaning in too close to her on the subway and quietly mumbling about her ass, Jake hadn’t noticed. 

It wasn’t completely fair, she thought. She shouldn’t place all of those feelings on him. He wasn’t responsible for hundreds of years worth of misogyny and she couldn’t logically blame him for being unaware of these situations, because he had never been in them. But then every time something like that happened, she noticed when he was blissfully unaware. Sometimes he would notice. He was getting better about it daily. But each time something slipped past him, she added it to the ever-growing list of things he missed. And each time she referenced that list, a pang of resentment hit her. 

Then when they were first faced with the discussion of starting a family together, an entirely new problem hit her. Sure, she and Jake had discussed this and decided that ultimately they _did_ want to start a family together. That wasn’t what was immediately bothering her, now. It was the fact that they had been together for years and somehow she hadn’t known that he didn’t want children until that moment. They had never talked about it. How many other situations were lying dormant between them, waiting to be uncovered before they were threatened with the explosion of their relationship? 

Had they spent so much time joking and having fun with one another that they completely threw serious conversation to the wind? Had she lost that great a portion of herself in him that she never even thought to question his desire for their future together? Had she just not brought it up because little things he’d said had suggested that he _did_ want to be a father one day? She couldn’t figure out what caused this miscalculation on her part. It was unlike her to not plan ahead. She knew that he brought out that side of her, which usually was a good thing, but she couldn’t accept the fact that she had failed to discuss their stance on parenthood prior to walking down the aisle to him. 

Every time she had these thoughts, she was hit with so much emotion. She loved him so much. He was her best friend. She couldn’t imagine living this life without him. The feelings she was having, or rather the lack of feelings she was having, made her feel so guilty. He didn’t deserve this from her. He gave her every part of himself. He didn’t care to wrap himself into the perfect package, presenting a carefully tied bow. Instead, he was raw and honest with her. The way that he carried their relationship as arguably the thing he was most proud of in his life made the sinking feeling in her stomach feel more like plummeting. 

He was taking it slow, now. He usually liked to take things slow. He relished in the moments where he could explore her body, where they could simply exist together, slowly building toward the moment of ecstasy that they always achieved together. He nudged her legs apart now, inching up her thigh slowly, rubbing affectionately at the soft skin he found there. 

But she couldn’t wait. She needed to feel him. She needed to feel _something_. She shifted and reached forward, taking him in her hand, guiding him closer and positioning him. She exhaled sharply as he entered her, back immediately arching to give him a better angle. 

His movements were slow and filled with love. The way his hands travelled over her expanse of skin, the way he held her face as he kissed her, actions taken with no motive beyond love and desire. She wanted him to hurt her. She deserved to be hurt. He would be hurt if she knew these thoughts were running through her head every time they faced one another. But he was so gentle, so perfect, as always. 

“Harder,” she instructed him quietly. As if he had flipped a switch, Jake groaned quietly and fulfilled her request. She really can’t remember the last time she asked something of him and he didn’t oblige that request, even if it came with a joke or a bit of an argument. He really loved her more than anything else. And she really couldn’t figure out why she didn’t feel the same way anymore. 

She always tried to make excuses for herself. It was because there was so much going on. She was stressed at work. Their personal life had been tumultuous as of late. Perhaps it was the hormones, the daily shot from the current round of IVF as they continued to try, unsuccessfully, to start their family together. It was the stress around this being her fault. It was because of her that starting their family was so difficult. It was that consistent resentment creeping into her thoughts. _He_ could have a baby just fine. _He_ didn’t need to do those daily shots. 

It was the many doctors appointments. Appointments where words like ‘geriatric pregnancy,’ were thrown around. Appointments where they saw the first little glimpse of the life that was growing inside of her, the life that they had made together. Appointments where they received the news together, that the pregnancy was not viable, that the baby they had already formed such a large space for in their lives was not going to make its entrance into the world. 

It was the aftermath of that. The distraction from work, from life, from Jake. The thoughts that played over and over again in her head as she dissected every little event that had happened. Perhaps it was that one night where she’d had a couple drinks a few days before they found out that she was pregnant. Maybe it was her fault that instead of celebrating her second month of pregnancy, they were mourning the loss of a child they never got to meet. 

Everything became a reminder for her of the future that she had lost in such a quick instant. Commercials, trips to the grocery store, those little baby-on-board bumper stickers. But the most important reminder, and subsequently the most painful one, was Jacob Peralta. 

The smile on his face when she pulled the positive pregnancy test out from behind her back. The tears of joy that they had shared as he pulled her into his arms, kissing all over her face. He immediately dropped down to his knees, talking to the little bundle of cells that had no inkling of awareness. Little did they know that that little bundle of cells would _never_ have awareness, would never hear its father’s voice declaring the most important promises he had ever uttered. That he would love this child, protect them always. That he would always be there for his family, for his wife, for his baby. That he would be the best dad he could possibly be. He was overcome with love and the wide smile hadn’t left his face in what felt like weeks. 

They were so excited, and god, they knew they shouldn’t have told anybody. You don’t tell people that early into the pregnancy because exactly what happened to them is what can happen. They told their parents, first, over lunch. The grandparents were thrilled, crooning over the happy couple that would soon become a group of three. Jake’s mom spoke to Amy’s flat belly the same way that Jake did, forcing knowing glances between the couple as they basked in the love from their families. 

Next, they told Holt. Jake had arguably been more excited about telling Holt than he had been about telling his actual parents. Amy may have protested at the thought of bringing this personal news to her Captain, but she was incredibly excited, too. She wanted to hear his praises, his excitement for their future. 

“I have no doubt that the two of you are going to be wonderful parents,” he had proclaimed. “Any child that the two of you raise will be lucky to live in a home surrounded by love.” 

This was a sentiment that often echoed around her head, now. A home surrounded by love. A child brought into the world by them now may not live in a home surrounded by love. She didn’t feel the love. It didn’t touch her heart the way that it used to. 

She was sure that it had to have been the hormones. Right? Because nothing had changed between them. They still had the same dynamic. They still joked amongst themselves, still held hands as they trekked to their favorite coffee shop in the morning. He still kissed the little wound every day where he injected her with the IVF medication, still worked daily to make the experience easier for her than it was. But every appointment where they were not pregnant, every sad smile tossed in their direction from a doctor, pushed Amy further and further into herself. 

Every disappointment tripled the distance she was feeling from Jake. Every time she felt like she had let him down. Every time she saw the sadness in his eyes. Just a glimpse, here and there, as he was going about his day. When it was time for her shot, he would look sadly at her, then smile and try to crack a joke to lighten the mood. 

What hurt the most was the day that he had stumbled upon the little stuffed animals they’d gotten. They were at the top of their closet, hidden away, Amy had thought. The day they’d found out they were pregnant, they continued about their typical routine, going to the grocery store. On the way out, Jake couldn’t resist the claw machine at the door. He excitedly ran over, pulling crinkled dollar bills out of his pocket and inserting them into the machine. 

“Okay, you go first, Ames. Let’s see if we can win our little baby their first toy.” 

With a smile, Amy watched as a pink and purple polka-dotted penguin fell into the bottom of the machine, which she collected and presented to Jake victoriously. He kissed her before taking his turn. After a moment, he collected a red giraffe, rainbow strings dotting its neck and green spots on its back. 

“Our baby is _so_ lucky,” he beamed at her as he spoke. “They got _two_ toys because they have _two_ kickass parents.” 

“Or,” Amy said quietly, “what if they get one toy _each_.” 

Jake raised his eyebrows at this. “Two babies, two toys. Okay, Santiago. I see you, and I raise you.” He pulled another dollar out of his pocket. “Either we’re going to have one baby with a lot of toys, or we’re going to have a lot of babies with very few toys each.” 

But it turned out that they weren’t going to have a baby. They had no babies, but they had a lot of toys. And when Amy found Jake sitting on the closet floor, leaning against the wall as sleep overcame him, she found a sight that she would never recover from. The shadows on his face clearly showed that he had been crying. In his arms, he tightly grasped the stuffed animals that they had won that day, a day that felt like it took place years before. Of all of the things that Amy had been through regarding this, the thing that broke her heart the most was Jake losing the future that, while apprehensive at first, he quickly claimed and longed for. 

It was _for him_ , that she started feeling this way, she hypothesized. To protect him. He wanted that future, and what if she couldn’t give it to him? What if she couldn’t give him babies, half her and half him? What if he never got to see his daughter, who mirrored him in almost every way? The future that they had talked about, the things they wanted for their child… What if she couldn’t give that to him? He still deserved that future. She wouldn’t deprive the world of _more_ Jake Peralta. 

She hadn’t said any of these fears aloud. Jake would quickly squelch them, would shower her with love and affection and alternatives. She would feel better. She might feel normal. But instead, she pretended that she never saw him in the closet that day. She quietly hated herself for taking that away from him. She longed for a future that she wasn’t sure if she could have. She struggled with feelings of disappointing Jake, of not being enough for him, though all of his actions proved that none of that was true. She projected feelings of resentment onto him, though he in fact did not resent her one bit for the things that they were going through. 

Once they finished, after holding one another in bed in hopes to increase their chances of success, Amy followed Jake out into the kitchen. He stood at the sink, washing his hands. She draped her arms around his waist and leaned her forehead against his bare back, feeling his muscles shift as he scrubbed his hands. He was humming a quiet melody, a song that she did not recognize. She couldn’t stop the tears from falling, so she moved so that no evidence of the tears landed on his skin. She couldn’t let him see her crying. He had enough sadness within himself, harboring feelings that he wasn’t sharing with her either, she knew. 

The light above their kitchen sink illuminated her face as he turned to look at her, drying his hands on a towel that read ‘I love it when you call me big papaya,’ a towel that Jake had excitedly tossed into their cart when he found it at the store. 

He pressed a kiss against her lips and pulled her close to him before pulling back, studying her face. 

“Why are your eyes all red?” 

She looked back at him, silently trying to think of a good reason for that. Finally, she shrugged. 

“Maybe we should get some sleep,” he wondered aloud. 

Another thing that slipped under his radar. 

And as Jake faded into sleep next to her, snoring softly to alert her that he was slipping out of consciousness, Amy was left alone with her thoughts again. 

This too shall pass. 

Right? 

She wasn’t falling out of love with him. Not actually. They were going through something. Couples go through things all the time. This is a part of adult relationships. Though this is not a part of the adult relationship that Jake and Amy had cultivated. In all of the years that they had been together, she had never felt the way that she feels now. 

Not through Jake being in Coral Palms. 

Not through Jake being in prison. 

Not through their wedding day almost being ruined. 

This was the first time that Amy could think of where she could truly blame herself for a massive shortcoming in their relationship. She had failed. Her body had failed. And because of that, they lost more than their entire future that they had already begun planning. 

She had lost herself. 

And she was losing him, too. 

Did he even know? Or was this just another thing that fell right on the cusp of his awareness? 

\--

She thought that he didn’t notice. 

She thought that he couldn’t see the way that she recoiled from him, sometimes. 

He blamed himself. He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to handle all of this. 

He didn’t know how it happened to him, so quickly. He hadn’t even wanted a family just a few short months prior, but here he was, mourning the loss of way more than just an idealistic future. 

He was mourning the loss of the prospect of a very real baby.

But more importantly, he was mourning the loss of his wife. 

She was there, but not really. She was a shell of the woman he had fallen in love with. He tried desperately to find her inside of herself, but he could see that his efforts were barely scratching the surface. He wanted to help her, but he didn’t know how. 

He was drowning, daily. He would wake up and see her, but she was so far away. Every kiss that he delivered upon her lips, every time he pulled her into an embrace, he felt her shrink away just a little bit more. But when he tried to bring it up, when he tried to talk about it, she shied away from the conversation. It was hard enough for him already, talking about loss and disappointment, but it was even harder when he couldn’t share that with her. 

She needed to escape from herself, he thought. She needed him to pull her out of her head. But hard as he tried, he couldn’t reach her. Things were looking darker at every turn and the dread that filled him was slowly echoing itself in thoughts that he never would have cultivated on his own accord. 

This is _exactly_ how couples get divorced. 

They take on an obstacle that they couldn’t handle. They slowly watch each other fade away until they find something that takes away the pain better than their spouse does. They lose themselves and they lose one another until they have nothing left but broken shards of a once-illusive relationship. 

That’s what happened to his parents, and that’s what happened to many other couples that he’d known. For his parents, the obstacle was his father’s adultery. An obstacle that, to be fair, was less of an obstacle and more of a character flaw. But that flaw broke their entire family, broke Jake for years into his future, in a way that still affected a lot of the decisions that he made today. Shit, if he was being honest, it was his father that made him question wanting to have children in the first place. He didn’t want to be like that man. 

But maybe if he had decided a few years earlier that he was ready, they would have had a successful pregnancy. Amy wasn’t wrong when she mentioned to him that women don’t have the luxury of waiting. They thought they had the luxury of waiting a few more years, but maybe they didn’t. Of course, maybe this had nothing to do with a biological clock and more to do with the workings of their respective reproductive systems. It didn’t have to have anything to do with ‘geriatric pregnancy,’ a term which Jake thought was incredibly insensitive for doctors to throw around in front of his already fragile wife. 

Jake and Amy’s obstacle turned out to be the loss of their first child. And then, a few short months later, the loss of their second. Jake pictured a comic book when he thought about this. He pictured a happy couple in one frame, doodled in black and white, holding hands on a park bench. The next frame contained a stormcloud pouring down on them, the word _loss_ in bold letters across the cloud. The couple looked sadly up at the cloud. The final frame contained the couple, underwater. He was reaching toward her, but she was looking away, sinking to the bottom. The word _infertility_ loomed above them at the surface of the water. _This_ was their new obstacle. And it was much bigger than he ever could have imagined.

He could feel her slipping further and further away from him, but no matter how hard he swam, the waves kept pulling her further away. And he was drowning. He was drowning in himself, he was drowning in his responsibilities, and he was drowning in the empty spaces between himself and Amy. 

The silence was deafening, every time she chose not to continue the conversation. When he would get home from work and she was already sleeping, electing to go to bed early instead of waiting up for him like she used to. 

And he tried to blame it on the IVF. It was taking a lot out of her, he knew. It was hard for her and she was embarrassed, he could tell. He tried his hardest to make it better for her, to kiss her and show her how much he loved her, how much he didn’t mind doing all of this. He would do anything for Amy. 

He was afraid of what that sentiment might mean for him. 

When he said he would do anything for Amy, he mostly meant it. 

But he couldn’t imagine letting her go. And he feared that that’s exactly where this was headed. 

He had never wanted to get married. He saw what happened to his parents. He couldn’t tolerate the thought of going through that same experience with a woman he claimed to love. That wasn’t love. Marriage wasn’t love. Marriage was an institution that was built to fail. 

He really believed that, until he was with her. He had never had a girlfriend who even slightly prompted him to think about marriage in his future until he was with her. With every other woman, he couldn’t even pretend marriage interested him, but he couldn’t imagine _not_ marrying Amy. He never had even the slightest concern that their marriage would end. He thought they were better than all of those statistics, better than any obstacle that faced them. 

They still were, he knew it. He could tell that underneath it all, they were still in there. The two of them were struggling, but they were still Jake and Amy. Underneath all the pain and discomfort, his best friend was still around. He just needed to figure out how to get to her. 

He was scrambling through every day trying to think of new ways to change their present situation. She deserved happiness. She deserved to feel better. Though she never said anything to announce her feelings, he could see it in the way she carried herself. That wasn’t Amy. 

And if he didn’t reach her soon, she may be too far for him to ever pull her back in. 

But _they_ weren’t going to separate. That _wasn’t_ going to happen to _them_. He hadn’t felt happy in a while, but it was just something they were going through. It wasn’t a death sentence. He might actually _prefer_ a death sentence. He couldn’t imagine going on with a life that didn’t involve the prospect of their happy relationship in its future. 

He didn’t _need_ children to be happy. He just needed her. And if she needed children, that was fine. He would _love_ to have children with her. He would love to see their little babies, resembling her features as they were learning to walk. He would love to learn Spanish with them, his little bilingual babies. But if he couldn’t have little babies that were part of her and part of him, he would be okay. They could adopt, if they needed to. There were more options beyond what they were doing, now. If this didn’t work, their relationship still could. It still _would._ He refused to believe that this was the end, though it felt more final as each day passed. 

They deserved better. 

_She_ deserved better. She had worked so hard for everything throughout her life. She had been the perfect detective, the perfect partner, the perfect friend, girlfriend, and now wife. She would have been the perfect mother, he knew. And when that thought hit him, it pulled him into a low that he didn’t know he could hit. 

Images of Amy dancing around the living room with their daughter in her arms flashed across his eyelids. The cake at her first birthday party smashed all over her face, then subsequently all over his as his baby daughter shared her food with him like she always did. The frosting found its way onto Amy’s face as he kissed her. Images of the three of them, frosting-covered smiles, would make their way onto the wall in their living room for every guest to see. He would put her to bed every night, kissing her forehead and singing a lullaby to her. 

_Honey is for bees, silly bear_  
_Besides, there’s jelly beans everywhere_  
_It’s not what it seems in the land of dreams_  
_Don’t worry your head, just go to sleep_

_It’s not about what you feel_  
_Life is just a ferris wheel_  
_It’s always up and down, don’t make a sound._

_When you wake up, the world will come around._  
_When you wake up, the world will come around._

This was the melody that he hummed to himself as he washed his hands, Amy leaning back against him. He could feel her sniffling softly. 

As he dried his hands, he turned to her, seeing the glistening in her eyes as she held back more tears. He wanted to hold her, to pull her into his lap and talk to her about everything, but he was so afraid of her rejection when she didn’t want to talk about it. He couldn’t fathom the idea of her ignoring him, of her telling him that everything was fine for the hundredth time. 

Everything was _not_ fine. He didn’t know how to fix it, but he sure as hell knew that it was broken. And when he turned to face her, kissing her softly, like always, he found her eyes red from the tears that he knew she was crying. But when he asked her about it, she denied that she had been crying. Just like she always did. 

He’d tried telling her that he knew she’d been crying in the past, but that only seemed to have made things worse. He didn’t try that anymore, for fear of causing more pain for her and more problems between them. 

He wanted so much. 

He wanted the future that had been pulled just out of his grasp. He wanted his wife. He wanted their friendship. He wanted to feel the love from her that he had never once had to question before all of this had happened. More than anything, he wanted to see her smile. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw her smile. Sure, she gave little smiles here and there, but he couldn’t remember the last time she smiled and it touched her eyes. He hadn’t seen a genuine smile on Amy Santiago’s face since before they lost their first child. Even when they found out that she was pregnant again, the smile was tainted with fear, he could tell. 

He just wanted her to be happy. Happ _ier_ , even. She deserved happiness. 

And she clearly wasn’t getting it from him. 

Which is exactly how he figured out what he needed to do. For her. 

He would do _anything_ for her. 

He meant that. 

So when he woke up in the middle of the night, restless like he had been finding himself for months, he made a decision. It was a decision that had been on his mind, haunting him every time he closed his eyes. It wasn’t something that he had done carelessly. He hadn’t thought of this one moment and decided to act on it the next. He had been thinking this through consistently for months, but avoiding coming to terms with the possibility that it might actually be something he would try. 

Being around wasn’t making things better. He was with her almost constantly, talking to her, loving her, trying to help her feel better. Maybe what she needed wasn’t him. Maybe she needed _space_. 

He sat up, dangling his feet off the edge of their bed. He pressed his elbows into his knees, resting his forehead against his palms and running his fingers through the curls atop his head. How did things get so fucked up? How was he awake, at four o’clock in the morning, seriously considering suggesting that he and his wife take….what? A break? 

He couldn’t actually be considering that, could he? 

They were _Jake and Amy_. They were a package deal. You couldn’t talk about one without thinking of the other. Nobody could. 

But he couldn’t think of Amy lately without thinking about the look she seemed to always have in her eyes. She looked sad. She looked distant. She was hurt, and he undoubtedly played a role in that. He could see it written all over her face whenever he interacted with her. Things weren’t the same. They hadn’t been the same for months. He wasn’t sure if they would ever be the same again. 

In order to help her, in order to allow her some semblance of happiness in life, he needed to try something that he hadn’t tried yet. 

He needed to leave. 

\--

When she awoke, her eyes fell upon an empty, cold bed. Jake never woke up before her, so she was already more confused than anything else. She clicked off her alarm, skipping her normal morning routine in exchange for trying to find her husband. It was a Saturday morning, they had nowhere to go, so there’s no reason Jake should be out of bed. 

She found him sitting at their kitchen table, looking worse than she had seen him looking in a while. Shadows covered the space underneath his eyes, a lack of sleep all but too apparent on his face. His eyes were red, she could tell that he had been crying. Her stomach sank as she pictured that night she had found him sleeping on the closet floor in a very similar state to the way he looked now. 

He met her gaze and flashed her a quick, sad smile, before quickly averting his eyes from her face. That’s how she knew it was something _else_. This was different from the problems they had been living through. Even when they struggled, even when he was sad, he _never_ had trouble looking at her. 

“Jake…?” She asked hesitantly. He didn’t look up at her. “What’s wrong?” 

She watched as his eyebrows drew together, then his hand quickly moved to rub his forehead. He was trying not to cry. That was his move. She waited another moment before continuing. 

“Jake, look at me.” 

“I can’t,” he replied quietly, voice breaking midway through his second word. He took a shaky breath, then ran his fingers through his hair. “I can’t, because if I look at you, I’ll change my mind.” 

She pulled the chair across from him out, sitting down quietly and studying what she could see of his face. He stared down at the table until he had to close his eyes to stop the tears from falling. 

“I think,” his voice was shaking, “that we should talk…” 

“About what?”

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and turned his head to the side slightly. “Ames… Are you-” He shook his head again. “Are you happy?” 

Loaded question. 

“No,” she answered immediately, honestly. 

He finally glanced up at her momentarily. He looked like he was in physical pain. He rested his face in his palms and took another deep, shaky breath. 

“Uhm, I’ve been- I’ve been trying to… fix this. I don’t know how. I don’t know what to do. I just… I love you so much, Ames. God, I love you. And I want you to be happy. And it seems like me being here… It seems like it’s making things harder for you.” 

She was silent. Maybe he _had_ been noticing some of the things she thought were going over his head. “I love you, too,” she almost whispered. 

He released a breath in a broken manner, and she wished that she could tell him that he was wrong. She wished she could say that things felt normal. She wished she could wake up next to him and feel like things would one day be okay again. No matter how hard she wished, and no matter how hard she _tried_ , she couldn’t rid herself of the feeling looming over her. He wasn’t wrong. 

He stared down into his lap. “So, uhm…” He swallowed, then sniffled a moment. “So I think that maybe I should leave… for a while.” 

She felt the tension in her forehead as she looked at him. “What do you mean?” 

She watched as he tried to steady his breathing, and she could feel tears pricking in her own eyes. He wasn’t saying what she thought he was saying. He couldn’t be. That couldn’t be the answer. 

_Right?_

“I just think that maybe I need to give you a little bit of space. I don’t… I mean, I don’t know what else to do right now. You won’t talk to me, you don’t seem to want me… around… I don’t know.” 

“Jake, _look at me_ ,” she practically hissed at him. “Please.” 

At hearing her say please, his eyes immediately met hers. He swallowed again, but maintained a straight face as he looked at her. “I love you so much. I just want to do whatever is best for you.” 

“Is this what you want?” The tears were running down her cheeks, now. She had to blink them away in order to see him clearly. 

He shook his head, smiling softly, sadly at her. His tears still fell freely. “Of course not. You know what I want, babe.” His smile faded. “What do you want to do? I just want to do whatever I can to make this better for you. Easier.” 

Now it was her who was looking away from him. She couldn’t look at him and tell him that he was absolutely right. She couldn’t pretend that she was happy. She couldn’t tell the man that she loved more than anything, even if she _was_ having trouble locating those feelings, that she wasn’t sure about anything anymore, least of all their relationship. He was her best friend. She couldn’t imagine losing him. 

And yet, it felt like she already had. She didn’t even know _herself_ anymore. She couldn’t find the person that she knew was inside of her. But they had made a _promise_ to each other. For better or for worse. Every single day they spent like this, he felt less like her best friend, less like the love of her life, and more like a reminder of the pain and disappointment that was ever-present in her life. This is _not_ what she had planned. 

“You just… Every time I look at you, Jake. Every time I look at you, I see a future that we’ll never have together.” 

“It’s not never,” he replied automatically. Optimistic, like always. It was that same optimism that had been present in his demeanor since they had started IVF. It was misplaced. There was nothing to be happy about. Nothing to be optimistic for. She knew what the future held. More shots, more disappointment, and more pain. 

She took a deep breath and looked up at him. “I think space would be okay.” 

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. Space is okay. No doubt, no doubt.” 

Clearly not the answer he was hoping for. 

“Not forever, right?” The question was for both of them. She genuinely wanted to make sure that wasn’t what he meant, because _divorce_ was not on the table, but she also wanted him to know that that wasn’t what she wanted. 

“I mean, I hope not…” 

“Yeah. Not forever,” she confirmed. 

“Yeah,” he repeated. “Not forever.” 

They stared at each other, neither of them daring to move. 

“I’m sorry,” she finally whispered. 

He closed his eyes tightly, then slowly opened them to look at her seriously again. “Amy, don’t be sorry. Please.” 

She nodded, then moved to wipe a tear away from her eye. After a few moments of silence, Jake pushed his chair back and stood up. She stood up, too, matching his movements. She wasn’t sure what happened from here. They hadn’t discussed arrangements. Where was he going? Did he even need to _leave_? He could just stay in a different room, maybe. He gripped the back of the chair and looked at her. 

“Uh, I… I’m gonna go to Charles’, I guess.” 

“Oh…” Amy trailed off, looking back at him. “So… We’re telling people?” 

Jake raised an eyebrow at her. “I just think it would be best for both of us during this time if I stay in a completely different place… We’re already around each other so much at work, ya’know? And it’s just…” He stopped talking and looked at the ground for a moment, but quickly composed himself and looked back up at her. “This is hard… for me, ya’know?” He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know how to give you enough space if I’m around you. I’ve been so worried.” 

She felt herself tense at this. _Worried._ He just didn’t _understand_. He couldn’t. He was right. This would be good for them. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? She would have a little space from him and then everything would be fine. She’d be able to talk to him, she’d be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. She had always been so introverted. Maybe she just needed some alone time, which she so clearly hadn’t been getting at all lately. She’d be able to process, to recoup, and to ultimately get herself and her marriage back. 

He walked toward her, but then hesitated. She closed the gap, walking over and wrapping him into a hug. His arms hesitated at her sides, but slowly wrapped around her. He pressed a kiss into her hair, then whispered softly to her. “I love you so much, Amy Santiago. I hope you always know.” 

“I love you, too,” she said quietly. 

He kissed her on the cheek before he left. 

“Hey, call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Yeah,” she nodded at him. 

“Promise?” 

“Promise.” 

And with that, he was hesitantly going out the door, glancing back toward her two more times before committing to the idea. The door shut softly behind him, and she was left alone. 

_Alone._

Alone with her thoughts, alone with her feelings. 

And she felt emptier than she ever had before.


	2. i won't leave, no i won't surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from the song Numb Without You by The Maine. 
> 
> _You are my last, you are my first_  
>  _You kill me for the better_  
>  _You are the rising tide_  
>  _You're every fucking thing inside me, now._
> 
> _You are the violence in my veins_  
>  _You are the war inside my brain_  
>  _You are my glitter and my gloom_  
>  _I am so numb without you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This timeline is moving sooo quick, but please bear in mind that Amy is in the middle of a cycle of hormones for IVF, of which explicit side effects can be mood swings and depression, which _definitely_ play a part in what's about to happen here. 
> 
> But as Jake says, once it's done, it can't be taken back.

He paced back and forth in front of the door for a few moments, running his fingers through his hair for what had to have been the thousandth time. He was _stressed_. He was trying to compose himself enough that Charles wouldn’t immediately realize that something was wrong with him. He didn’t know if Nikolaj was home, and he didn’t want to walk into Charles’ home, eyes red and tears streaming. Niko didn’t need to see his _Uncle Jake_ like that. 

After decidedly way too long, Jake felt that he was composed enough to knock on the door. Charles opened the door almost immediately, eyes narrowing as they fell on Jake’s face. 

“Jake! What’s wrong?” 

Jake blinked. “Uh, nothing…” He heard his voice trail off. Suddenly, his mouth felt so dry. 

Charles studied his face before swinging the door open wider, making space for Jake to enter. Jake walked in, grateful that Charles didn’t push the matter. He looked around, noting that it was too quiet for Nikolaj to be home. Charles walked into the kitchen, leaving Jake to sit uncomfortably at the table while he rummaged through cabinets. 

“So, uh… Where’s Nikolaj?” 

“Oh, Genevieve took him for a playdate with a friend from school,” Charles replied, his voice muffled because his head was still inside of a cabinet. 

Jake nodded, knowing that he was unseen by Charles, then dropped his head into his hands. He knew that this was a strong possibility when he suggested leaving, but he was hoping that Amy would say no. He was hoping that she would say that she wanted him, that she _needed him_ there to help her through it. He was having a great deal of trouble getting through this, and he was almost entirely sure it was because he didn’t feel like he had Amy on his side. She was so distant that it often felt like he was going through it all alone. He wanted nothing more than to have her with him, and he had suspected that she didn’t share that sentiment with him, but now he could confirm those fears pretty confidently. 

And now he wasn’t even going to be staying in the same house as her. He wouldn’t be able to wrap an arm around her and pull her closer while she was sleeping. The smell of her shampoo wouldn’t surround him as he buried his face in her hair. This meant that the only part of Jake’s days that had been feeling even remotely normal were being torn away from him, and if he was being honest, he wasn’t sure how he was going to get through _that_.

Plus, there was so much they hadn’t talked about. They’re still in the middle of a round of IVF. Do they continue? Is he supposed to still come and assist her with the shots? Are they still going to be trying? _Should_ they be trying? Their situation wasn’t very stable at the moment. And Jake wanted nothing more than to blame that all on the infertility that was plaguing them and making it so difficult for them to start a family, but he couldn’t be sure now that a successful pregnancy would solve their problems. He would hate to finally achieve their goal of starting a family only to be left with the confusing emotions that he was experiencing now. He was sad, of course, but now he had to add this confusing layer of betrayal, paired with the guilt he felt over feeling betrayed and resentful toward his wife. It wasn’t _fair_ for him to feel that way. 

He wanted to understand her. He would take it all away from her and bear all the pain if he could. He’d do it in a heartbeat, without a thought. He would do anything for her. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t put himself in her shoes. He couldn’t understand what it felt like to feel the beginnings of a life growing inside of himself, only to ultimately lose that feeling and an entire future that came with it. He knew that she blamed herself, and though he tried to convince her that she was in no way at fault, he could see that it never really got through to her. So he watched his wife fall deeper and deeper into her own despair, and it seemed that all he could do was follow her in and leave a breadcrumb trail for her to follow out when she was finally feeling strong enough to walk back toward the light. 

Objects hitting the table pulled Jake out of his thoughts, and he looked up from his hands to see Charles setting down various bags of candy, peanuts, and chips. He began pouring orange soda into two glasses, then sat down across from Jake. 

“What is this?” Jake asked, picking up one of the bags and inspecting it. 

“It’s my Jake Peralta Crisis Kit,” Charles responded, opening up the bag of sour gummy worms and offering them to Jake. 

Jake scrunched his eyebrows together, but accepted a gummy worm. “You have a Jake Peralta Crisis Kit?” 

Charles nodded. “Yeah, of course. You know, in case you ever need cheering up or anything. Don’t you have a Charles Boyle Crisis Kit? That’s what best friends are for.” 

Jake nodded slowly. “Uh, yeah, of course.” Mental note, make a Charles Boyle Crisis Kit. Although… what would go in it? Those weird fish donut octopus balls? Oh! Maybe cacao nibs.

“So, what’s going on, Jakey?” 

Jake was torn from his thoughts once again, looking back at Charles. His voice was an octave higher than usual when he spoke. “Uh, nothing…” Charles narrowed his eyes and looked expectantly at Jake, so he sighed deeply before continuing. “Okay… Don’t freak out, but I was hoping that maybe I could stay here for a little while.” 

Charles’ face lit up. “Stay here!? Like a sleep over? Of course! Oh my _god_ , this is going to be great. Nikolaj will be so excited! Wait-” He slid his chair back away, resting his hands in his lap. “Stay here? Like, not stay at home? What about Amy?” 

Jake looked down at the table. 

“Oh my god. Oh my _god_. Are you? You and Amy? You’re _leaving_?” Charles stood up before Jake could even respond. He was full on spiraling within seconds. “But you… You and Amy are _meant to be_. You’re perfect. I look up to you. Why would you leave her? Are you some kind of idiot?” 

“You think this is what _I_ want?” Jake snapped back. “You think I got up one day and thought that the best thing for me would be to leave the best thing that ever happened to me alone in our home so I can sleep on my buddy’s couch indefinitely at the age of 38?”

Charles sat back down. “Amy asked you to leave? I don’t… I don’t understand. You both seemed fine at work. Did something happen?” 

“I mean, a lot has happened. I don’t know where to even start.” 

Charles was quiet for a moment. “Is it because of the baby?”

Jake’s silence told more than he ever could. 

“Of course you can stay here, Jake. I can’t promise that Nikolaj won’t try to make you bunk with him, but you’re always welcome here. Genevieve and I have already talked about this. You’re my one person that is always welcome. Hers is her friend Claire, but luckily she hasn’t needed to stay. Claire is _weird_.” 

Jake laughed quietly. If Charles thought she was weird, that could mean anything. Sometimes it meant that the person was completely normal, while other times it meant that they really were off the wall. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Jake chewed another gummy worm slowly, thinking about his words as he ate. 

“We’ve been doing IVF,” he began. Charles looked excited, but he didn’t interrupt. “You know, obviously it hasn’t been going well, or I wouldn’t be here right now…” He looked down sadly and picked at his fingernail. “We had another miscarriage. And now between the IVF and the shots and the doctors appointments, you know, we’re never pregnant, Amy’s always hurt, and she’s just… I don’t know. She’s getting more and more distant and it seems like no matter what I do, I can’t make her happy. So I suggested that maybe a little bit of space would help. I thought she’d say no, but she agreed that space could be good for us. And here I am.” 

“Oh, Jake…” Charles said sadly. “Why didn’t you come to me about this? You don’t have to be going through this alone, you know. I know a little bit about infertility problems, what with my-”

“Don’t say it-”

“-shooting off dust and all.” 

Jake shivered uncomfortably. “C’mon, man.”

Charles shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, but it’s different. It’s not _me_. It’s Amy’s body that’s having trouble. I could get through this all fine if it was my body. You know, there would be alternate options, we could figure something else out. But this is what Amy has always wanted, and now that we’re trying, it just isn’t happening and even when it does happen, it’s so confusing and technical and _scary_ that I don’t think either of us can really even take the time to enjoy it before we’re back to another tragedy.” 

Charles nodded sadly. 

“I just want her back, you know? And I’m hoping this will fix everything. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?” 

Charles shrugged. “That’s what I’ve heard.” 

Jake shook his head. “I just don’t understand how things got this way. It was supposed to be me and Amy against the world.” 

“I’m sure it will be, Jake. You’re both going through a lot. This is uncharted territory for everyone. It’s not going to be easy, but if anyone can make it through this, it’s the two of you.” 

Jake smiled tightly. “Thanks, Boyle.” 

Charles looked like he wanted to say something else, but then the door opened and Nikolaj came flying into the room. 

“Papa, guess what! At my playdate- Uncle Jake!? And _gummy worms_?! This is the best day _ever_!” 

Jake smiled as Nikolaj ran over and wrapped his arms around his neck. He couldn’t picture how he had thought he had ever _not_ wanted to have children. Being a part of Niko’s life had been such a wonderful experience. He loved every moment he got to spend with him, and he couldn’t help but to think that he couldn’t wait for Nikolaj to meet he and Amy’s child one day. 

If they ever had one, that was. 

Jake’s first night at Charles’ house consisted of watching movies with Charles and Nikolaj. Charles had discreetly let Genevieve know about the situation, and she made what Charles described as ‘her world famous chicken tortilla soup,’ which doesn’t sound that weird, but Jake knew better than to think it wasn’t. Unsurprisingly, it was pretty good. He tried to be present in the moment, to take part in all of Nikolaj’s games, but he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering to Amy. He wondered what she was doing, if she was feeling any better. He wondered if she was thinking about him. 

\--

Amy slept terribly. 

She was up early, or rather, she stopped trying unsuccessfully to sleep early in the morning. She couldn’t help but to feel like this had been a mistake. 

She felt _better_. 

And that made her feel worse. 

She shouldn’t feel better with her husband sleeping somewhere else. She shouldn’t feel like a weight was lifted off of her chest. She should be missing him, but she isn’t, and she can’t figure out why she would feel that way. That isn’t fair to him. 

He’s _perfect_. 

He’s kind, and he’s sweet, and he’s funny. He’s always thinking about her, texting her little things that reminded him of her throughout the day. He reminds her that he loves her, both through his actions and his words, every chance he gets.

 _He_ has no reproductive issues. 

_He_ is perfect. 

She is feeling more and more imperfect as time goes on. 

Not only is she failing at getting pregnant, something that teenagers do on accident all the time, but now she’s failing at being a wife, too. He deserved so much better than her. He deserved someone who wouldn’t send him away. Someone who couldn’t fall asleep at night because they missed his presence in bed next to them, not someone who couldn’t fall asleep because they were thinking about how guilty they felt about not missing him there. 

She dressed for work and got out of the house early. Jake hadn’t brought any clothes with him, so she knew he’d be home before he left for work in the morning. She didn’t want to see him, so getting out early ensured her that she’d have a confrontation-free morning. She didn’t want to have to face him knowing that he probably missed her, yet she didn’t feel the same way.

She decided to walk to work, since she had the extra time. It gave her time to think about everything before she was overcome with people and cases at work. 

What was the goal, here? She twisted her wedding ring uncomfortably on her finger as she walked. She kept flashing back to all those times that she had to sleep without Jake. Every night that he was in Coral Palms felt like her own personal hell. She couldn’t see him, couldn’t speak to him, and she was constantly afraid for his safety. 

Somehow, Jake being in prison was even worse. She could see him, on supervised visits where she wasn’t able to touch him, she could talk to him, on a phone that he had illegally been using, but she couldn’t _have_ him. He was so close, yet so far, and it somehow hurt her more than having no contact with him at all. She couldn’t reach through the glass to comfort him. She couldn’t ruffle her fingers through his hair and press a kiss against his jaw, the way she always did when he was hurting. He’d look down at her with that goofy grin, then wrap his arms around her so tight that she could feel the ghost of them there long after he’d pulled them away. 

But now, she’d willingly sent him away. 

And it _didn’t_ hurt. 

She felt relieved, almost. How fucking awful. How terrible that she had basically turned her back on the man who loved her the most, who loved her through everything, who promised her that he would always be there for her, no matter what. He kept that promise. She made that same promise to him, and now here they stood, in separate places. 

But it was _better_. It was better for him this way. He could have the things that he wanted. She shouldn’t feel guilty, because the more that she thought about it, the more this all made sense. She wasn’t feeling relieved because she didn’t want him around. She was feeling relieved because she wanted Jake to have all the happiness in the world and she knew now, that he couldn’t have all of that with her. Her guilt was misplaced. She had _been_ feeling guilty, for ruining their future and causing so many problems for them. 

This was the beginning of the next step for them.

She wouldn’t say the d-word. She wasn’t suggesting that they should get divorced, although what else did she mean by all of this? Jake should go have a baby with someone else, but they could still stay married? She didn’t know what she meant, all she knew was that she could feel change around her after last night. She was having trouble thinking clearly. 

That didn’t change when she ran into a familiar face on the sidewalk.

“Ames? What are you doing out here so early?” 

So much for avoiding confrontation.

“Jake!” Her voice was higher than she actually wanted it to be. “I’m, uh… Just getting to work a little early. I figured I’d give you space at home to get your things-”

He had been smiling before, but his expression faltered at this. “My things… Did you want me to like… pack some stuff?”

“What? Oh, no! No, that’s not what I meant, I just meant that you didn’t bring any clothes with you so I figured you’d be back in the morning and I didn’t want to be in your way.”

“You didn’t want to be in my way? In our apartment? That we’ve lived in together for the past few years?”

She felt stupid, now. “Uh, yeah…” 

She had been looking at the ground, but when she looked back up, she saw that his eyes were trained on her hands, where she was still uncomfortably twisting her wedding ring. When she stopped twisting it, his eyes immediately flashed to her face. He looked concerned, but above that he looked sad. 

“How was your first night alone?”

She twisted her ring again for a second, but caught herself when his eyes fell back upon her hand. She knew exactly how that looked, and judging by his expression, he knew exactly what she was thinking when she was doing it. 

“You know, it was fine.” She shrugged her shoulders. “How was your first night with Charles?” 

He shrugged, too. “It was okay. I got to hangout with Nikolaj, so that was nice.” 

Amy nodded, then leaned forward as if she was going to take a step away, but then leaned back and firmly planted herself on her heels. She couldn’t think of a time in her life when she had wanted an escape to get away from _Jake_. Fuck, Jake had even been her escape excuse on multiple occasions before they had started dating. She never thought she’d be standing in front of him, her _husband_ and trying to think of some white lie to get her out of the situation she was in. 

This was normal though, right? Couples went through things like this. It was just a hard time. Just a rough patch. It wouldn’t last forever, and when it passed, they’d be stronger than ever. Should she be doing something, though? She just didn’t have the energy to figure out what she should be doing to try to fix her marriage. Things just felt so unnatural, lately. She knew what caused it, but she didn’t know how to resolve it, what with their problem being essentially unsolvable, and all. 

“Hey, can we grab coffee? Breakfast? Whatever, I just… I really think we should talk about this more.” 

She _really_ didn’t want to talk about this. She couldn’t stop thinking about it already, she didn’t want it to be one of the only topics of conversation that she had, too. 

“Yeah, of course. You wanna just head to Companion, or do you want to wrap around and go to Doughnut Plant? I know you love their donuts.” 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and when she looked back at his face, she found his eyebrows drawn together. This must have been confusing. That was such a normal thing for her to say, and yet nothing between them was normal.

“Companion is fine. I don’t want you to be late for work.” 

She nodded, and they fell in step next to one another. She reflexively reached out and grabbed his hand, and they both tensed. He stopped walking and her hand fell away from his. They shared a glance amongst themselves, then began walking again, Amy one step further from him than before. 

\--

“So,” he said quietly as he passed her the coffee he’d just gotten, “I just wanted to talk about the plan for this… break?” She looked at him, then back down at the table, and she was glad that the top of the table hid her hands, where she was playing with her wedding band again. “Is there a plan?” 

She shrugged. “I mean, not really… I don’t know. I just think, I’ve been thinking a lot. About what’s best for us.” 

He narrowed his eyes and waited for her to continue. She didn’t. “And what do you think is best for us?” 

Another shrug. He was getting really tired of the shrugging, if he was being honest. “What do you want for the future?” 

He looked down at his lap, at his hands. The wedding band on his left ring finger glinted in the light from the window, and all he could think about was the way that she kept pulling on her own ring. Like she wanted to take it off. “I want _you_.”

“But what else?” 

Now he was the one shrugging. “Babe, c’mon, we’ve talked about all of this. I want you, I want to keep being a kickass detective, I want to start a family, of course. Maybe one day I’ll get a goldfish. I’d like to meet Bruce Willis, arrest like, a hella cool serial killer. Ya’know. The usual.”

“That’s it,” she said, as if she had made her point.

“What?” 

“You want to start a family. I can’t do that.” 

“Ames, c’mon. First of all, it’s _not_ impossible, we just have to keep-”

“What if I don’t want to keep trying?” 

He blinked for a moment, then looked at her seriously. “You don’t want to keep trying?” 

She placed her hands on the table, now, gripping her paper cup in her hands and staring at it. “I’m not sure.” 

He was hesitant as he spoke, dragging out his first word slowly. “Ooookay, that’s fine. You know, there are other options, Ames. It doesn’t just have to be kids or no kids. We could adopt-”

“I don’t think that’s the answer, Jake.”

“Why not? Look at Nikolaj! That went _great_. Charles is happy, Genevieve is happy, Niko is _happy_. Adoption is great.” 

“Yeah, adoption _is_ great, if that’s what a family wants. That’s _not_ what I want. Is that what you want?”

“I mean, it wasn’t exactly my first choice, but this is how life worked out for us, ya’know? We just have to roll with the punches.” 

“But we don’t have to. We don’t have to roll with the punches, Jake.”

“What’s it called when somebody else has your baby for you? We could do that, right? A surrogate?”

“Do you know how expensive that is?” 

He shrugged. “I don’t care how expensive it is. I just care about you. I want you to be happy.”

She smiled sadly and finally met his gaze again. 

“Jake, I want you to have the future you pictured for yourself. I’m not going to be able to give you that future.” 

He was already shaking his head. Nope. That made no sense. Did she even listen at all? 

“ _You_ are the future I pictured for myself. You’ve been a part of that future for _years_. Way longer than kids have been. I can be happy without kids-”

“But you shouldn’t have to be.” 

“Yeah, and neither should you.” 

“Jake, this isn’t easy, you know.” 

“ _What_ isn’t easy? What? You’re just going to leave? I’m just going to move out of the house and we’re going to separate and things are supposed to just be _fine_ for us? You’re just _fine_ with that?” 

“Of course I’m not fine with this.” Her voice was considerably quieter. 

His jaw tensed as his teeth ground together.

“No. No, Amy. This isn’t how this goes. You don’t just get to decide by yourself what’s best-”

She was back to staring at the table. He was so frustrated. They weren’t in a fucking coffee shop nonchalantly talking about possibly ending their marriage, were they? When things had been just fine a few weeks before? I mean, not fine, exactly, but more fine than ‘let’s get divorced, see you at work.’ 

“Jake.” When she looked up at him, she looked so calm. She looked sure of herself. She took a deep breath. “You’re right. But I think that it would be best for _me_ , if we talked about maybe making this a more permanent set up.” 

He was shaking his head again. “No.”

“No?” 

“No. What else do you want me to say?” 

“Listen, Jake. You know I love you, but-”

“No. _No_. This isn’t love. Love doesn’t leave you because it thinks it knows what’s best for you. Love listens to what you need and works with you to fix what’s wrong. This isn’t love. Don’t look at me and tell me you love me and then in the same breath, tell me that this is the end. It isn’t.” His voice was low. He was trying not to attract attention from the other people in the coffee shop, but he was also quickly losing his battle with his emotions.

“Jake, please.” 

“ _No_. We got _married_. This is the first really bad thing that’s happened to us since we’ve been married, Ames. We don’t just give up and call it quits. We have to fight for us.”

“I _am_ fighting for us. I’m fighting for you _right now_.” 

“I really don’t know how else to say that I don’t want any of this without you, Amy. This is it for me. I’m not going to find some other person. I don’t want some other person. It’s you, or it’s no one.” 

“You’re only saying that because you’re with me, Jake. If we never got together, you would have found someone else.” 

“But we _did_ get together. We got _married_. I’m telling you right now, this is it. If you call this off, you’re not doing it for me. This isn’t what I want, this will not ever give me what I want, and this will not lead to me somehow being happier.” 

“We won’t know that until we try.” 

“Amy, look at me.” He waited for her to comply. “This is not something that you can say and then just go back and change your mind. You realize that, right? If you do this, that’s going to change things _forever_. Yesterday was the first time we had even talked about me staying somewhere else, and today you’re ready to divorce me?” 

“I didn’t say divorce-”

“You didn’t have to say the word. That’s what you meant.” 

She didn’t say anything. 

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “ _Fuck_ , Amy. Please. Please don’t do this.” 

She shook her head and rested her chin in her palm. “I’m going to talk to my doctor about stopping the injections.” 

Jake shook his head. “I can’t believe this is happening.” 

“I’m sorry, Jake.” 

He laughed humorlessly. “Yeah, me too. I’m sorry that we lost our babies, and now I’m losing my best friend, too.” 

“You don’t have to lose me.” 

“Oh, you’re right, because being your friend will be so easy for me after you-” He stopped talking, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking a deep, shaky breath. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed. 

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Both of their coffees sat on the table, practically untouched. 

“This is why I didn’t want to get married, you know.” 

He watched as the first tear rolled down her cheek. 

“This is even worse than my parents, though. We didn’t even do anything wrong.” 

Amy was crying now, tears freely falling. “I’m so sorry, Jake.” 

He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Hey, it’ll be okay.” 

She nodded, but pulled her hand back to wipe away a tear. When she was moving her hand back toward the table, she stopped to look at it. Slowly, with shaky fingers, she reached out with her right hand and slid her wedding ring off of her finger. 

Jake’s eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes were immediately welling up with tears. “Ames, please…” 

She held the ring between her thumb and forefinger, carefully inspecting it and taking quiet, slow breaths. Jake cleared his throat quietly, choking on his own breath. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

She sniffled, then pulled his hand toward her and opened it up, palm facing up on the table. She held onto his fingers for a moment, holding the ring in the opposite hand and looking at it, glimmering in the light. 

“I’m doing this because I love you, Jake. I love you, and I know that this will be better.” 

He wanted to argue with her. This wasn’t better. This could never be better. But before he had the opportunity to fight back, she had placed the ring in his palm, and closed his fingers overtop of it. He opened his palm back up to look at it. 

No. This wasn’t fair. This was fucking stupid. This made no sense. It made _no sense_ that he was holding her wedding ring in his palm right now. It made no sense that she kept saying this was because she loved him. This wasn’t Amy. Amy wouldn’t do these things. It didn’t make sense. 

“I have to go to work,” she finally said. 

He nodded. He knew exactly where he _wouldn’t_ be going today. Holt would understand. 

They stood up together, Jake shoving her ring in his pocket and pretending that he couldn’t feel it burning through the fabric against his thigh. Their coffees were left abandoned on the table, barely a sip taken out of either of them. 

They walked out the door, and the stupid bell that jingled when the door opened was enough to make Jake want to scream. Amy looked at him, mumbling a ‘bye,’ and turning away. 

“Wait,” he called after her. His voice sounded desperate. He _was_ desperate. 

He grabbed her wrist lightly and pulled her back to him, wrapping her tightly in his arms. He breathed her in, dragging his fingers through her hair and trying to remember every single detail of her. Whether he knew it or not, this moment would fuel him for at least the next few weeks. 

“I love you so much, Amy Santiago,” he whispered against her hair. 

“I love you, too,” she mumbled against his chest. 

He held her for a few more moments, trying to memorize the feeling of her arms wrapped around his waist. He just wanted this moment to last forever, because he knew the moment that came next would be one that he’d want nothing more than to forget. 

When he loosened his grip on her, she stretched up on her toes, gripping his shirt in her hand, and pressed a soft, sweet kiss against his lips. 

“I’ll see you at work?” She asked. 

“Yeah,” he agreed. Not today, but she didn’t need to know that. 

Then he watched as she walked toward the precinct, out of his arms, and away from him. 

But it was fine. 

Everything was fine. 

He meant when he said. 

This isn’t the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It won't always be this rough, I swear. 
> 
> Also, Charles gets to have a much more explosive reaction in the next chapter. ¨̮ 
> 
> And there'll probably be a short time jump!! With flashbacks to cover the space in the jump. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! This chapter was very dialogue heavy, which wbk I'm uncomfy about. ¨̮


	3. think of you later in my empty room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from Every Avenue's Think of You Later. 
> 
> _This might be my last chance,_  
>  _So maybe I should take it?_  
>  _I just hope you're listening_  
>  _To everything I'm saying._  
>  _I miss the long drives,_  
>  _The car rides,_  
>  _The bad fights,_  
>  _The good times._  
>  _The way you make me feel_  
>  _Will never leave my mind._
> 
> _Think of you later in my empty room,_  
>  _Where I, I will fall asleep alone._  
>  _Think of you later in my empty room,Where I, I will fall asleep alone._
> 
> _So quit your cryin',_  
>  _And wipe the tears from your eyes,_  
>  _'Cause this is 'see you later,'_  
>  _I'm not into goodbyes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've actually had this chapter finished since before I finished hygim! I just wasn't sure if I wanted to add more or not. Hmmm. 
> 
> Writing separated Jake & Amy is difficult as heck for me.

Charles’ high pitched “WHAT?!” rang through the precinct. 

“Charles, c’mon! Quiet down!” 

“You’re subletting an apartment from Gina!?” He whispered aggressively. “You’re moving out?! I thought you said things were going to be okay?!” 

“Things _are_ going to be okay.” He was staring down at the ground. Then, more quietly. “Probably.” 

“This isn’t happening.” Charles shrugged his shoulders definitively. “This just isn’t going to happen.”

Jake shook his head. He was sitting at the table in the break room, staring at the wall, while Charles paced around him. 

“You two… Jake, you know you two are everything, right? You’ve loved each other for years. Way before you knew that you loved each other. You should’ve seen the way you two looked at each other when you had that bet. So many years ago…”

“I know, Charles. I know. Of course I love her. I’m not gonna say I’ve loved her since the day I met her, but-”

“But you have. I was there.”

“I’ve loved her for a long time. I love her more than anything.”

“Then you can’t just let this go.” Charles sat down across from Jake. His eyes were intense as he leaned forward, trying to capture Jake’s attention. But Jake’s attention was on Amy. He was scanning through memories in his head, through images of Amy at different points throughout the years. None of this made sense. They’d taken so long to start their relationship and then once they finally got there, they both agreed that it didn’t make sense that they’d waited so long.

“You can’t just give up, Jake.”

He sighed. “I’m not just giving up.”

Charles nodded, but then leaned back in his chair. He was seemingly calmer.

“No. What are you doing?” 

Charles narrowed his eyes and looked at Jake as if he was confused. “What do you mean?” 

“Your face. You’re being normal. Or trying to be normal. What are you thinking?” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Jake.” Charles shrugged, trying to hide the smile that was forming on his face, and jumped up to run out of the room. 

“Charles!” Jake chased after him as he ran out of the room. “Boyle, no plotting! You-”

Jake came to a dead stop as they walked into the bullpen. Amy was stepping off of the elevator. Jake, Charles, and Amy all stopped in their tracks, silently looking between one another. 

“Oh… Hi,” Amy said quietly. She glanced at the other people in the room, namely Rosa, and tried to smile. Jake could have cringed at how fake it was, but he managed to hold it back. 

“Hey, Ames.” He thought that he came off a little more natural than her, but he could hear in his voice that it just wasn’t the same. 

She walked further into the room. “I’m just here to talk to Holt.” 

“Oh, okay… His, uh… office is right there.” Jake pointed to Holt’s office and silently cursed himself. He was doing a great job of looking natural. He and Amy had discussed this as he had packed up some of his things. They didn’t want to alert everyone at work right away, in case things changed. He hoped things changed. 

Amy gave him a look, then walked past him and into Holt’s office, shutting the door. 

“What was _that?_ ” Rosa asked as soon as Amy was behind the door. 

“Oh… That? That was just… We’re… practicing.” 

“Practicing?” 

“Yeah, she asked me to help on a… case. We’re going to pretend to be a divorced couple. Like a good cop, bad cop situation, except we’re just going to make them so uncomfortable that they’ll confess.” 

“God, I have to see that. Can I tag along?” 

Jake closed his eyes tightly. 

“No, you can’t, because I’m going.” Charles cut in.

“So? We can both go.” 

“No- It’s… There’s not… room.” Charles nodded his head as he said this.

“There’s not room in the car?”

“No-”

“Charles, stop. It’s gonna come out, anyway.” He took a deep breath, trying to ignore how closely Rosa was watching him. “Amy and I are taking a break.” 

“What?!” 

“Wait,” Hitchcock cut in, “So does this mean she’s back on the market?” 

“What? No, Hitchcock, gross.” Jake was making a face. 

Rosa was still looking at Jake, all but ignoring Hitchcock. “What do you mean you’re taking a break?” 

Jake sighed again. “We’re separating. At least, for now. I’m subletting my old apartment from Gina to stay in.” 

“I don’t understa-”

Amy walked back into the room, effectively shutting Rosa up. They all turned to look at her. Holt followed behind her, so that everyone in the squad was in the bullpen. 

“Hey, if you’re looking for something to do on Friday night, I’m free,” Hitchcock finally offered, looking at Amy. 

“What? Gross,” Amy replied. She was making a disgusted face, but it clearly hadn’t dawned on her that Jake had mentioned their situation. “Why would I be-”

“Jake said you’re single, now.”

Jake groaned. “Oh my god. That’s _not_ what I said.”

Amy turned to Jake, betrayal clear on her face. “You told them? I thought we agreed to keep this between us.” 

“I didn’t-”

“Told them what?” Holt asked. 

Jake turned toward Holt, but Amy stayed fixated on Jake. “You promised that you wouldn’t-”

“Amy, you work in a precinct _full_ of detectives. And you guys were acting so weird. It took me like two seconds to figure it out.” Rosa offered.

“Figure what out?”

Finally, Amy turned to Holt. She took a deep breath. “Sir… Jake and I are separating.”

“Temporarily-” he added. 

He tried not to notice the pointed glance she tossed in his direction, but if he was being honest, he’d be thinking about it for weeks. 

Holt’s expression did not falter, but he looked between the two of them. “I… don’t believe I understand. You’re… separating?”

“Temporarily,” Jake reminded. “I moved some of my things into my old apartment. Subletting from Gina.”

Holt’s glance flickered between the two of them silently. They both stared back, unsure of what to say and unwilling to break the strange dynamic until Holt allowed it. “My office,” he commanded sternly. 

They followed him in and sat down across from him. Jake had been sitting next to Amy on the other side of that desk for years. He knew that she’d never scooted her chair further away from him when she sat down. Not before they were together, not when they always teased each other, not even when she was dating Teddy. But she did it now. 

In the privacy of his office, Holt showed a little more concern. His expression softened, albeit barely, when he spoke again. “I know it isn’t my place, but may I ask why?”

Jake looked at Amy. She kept his gaze for a moment before dropping her head down to stare at the floor. She wasn’t going to answer. That’s okay. He didn’t mind. He probably didn’t want to hear her answer, anyway.

Jake took the lead. “We just needed a little space, sir.” 

Holt looked Jake over, but then focused in on Amy, whose eyes were still trained on the floor in front of her. “Santiago, are you okay?” 

She quickly met his eyes, but then glanced back down toward the table. “Uh… Yes, sir. I’m fine.”

He stared at her a moment longer, then nodded to no one in particular. He opened the drawer in front of him and pulled out a pad of paper. He began scrawling something down. While writing, he spoke. 

“You know, Kevin and I had gone through a pretty rough patch while he was in France. That followed into when he came home. It was pretty difficult for the two of us to… get back into our usual routine. We met with a marriage counselor.”

He peeled off the piece of paper and slid it toward them. Jake and Amy reached for it at the same time. Their hands collided right before they touched the paper, and both recoiled quickly. It was as if they touched a hot stove, like how you reacted when there was a spider in front of you that you hadn’t noticed. Jake scooted his chair away, signalling to Amy that she could grab the paper. Holt watched the entire interaction through narrowed eyes. 

“It might be good for the two of you to meet with her. She helped us a great deal.”

“Thank you, sir.” Amy looked up at him and offered a weak smile. 

They were all quiet for a moment. Jake had joined Amy in looking down at the floor. He was closing himself off a little further every moment. It had been a few days since he had stayed with his wife. Now instead of feeling a little bit of relief when he got to see her, even just in short bursts, he felt worse each time. She was awkward around him. Not awkward in the typical Amy sense, but awkward in the I-can’t-stand-to-be-around-you-but-I-don’t-want-to-hurt-your-feelings sense. Ironic, considering she had already hurt all of his feelings. Once when she said she wanted space, and again when she gave him back her ring. He could still feel Holt’s eyes on him. 

“Again, I know it’s really none of my business. I am sure, after working with you both for all these years, that you’re professional enough to not let this affect your work. But for what it’s worth, I think you really complement one another well. I have enjoyed getting to watch your relationship blossom into what it has been. At the risk of sounding cheesy, I think that you are capable of overcoming any obstacle that comes your way, if you put forth the effort.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Amy repeated. Jake stayed silent. Again. 

“Santiago, dismissed. Peralta, I need you to stay here. Quick briefing.”

Amy quickly shuffled out of the room without another word. Jake rolled his eyes at the floor. The two of them sat in silence for a moment before Jake cleared his throat and looked up. “So what case is this briefing on, Captain?” 

Holt studied him for a moment before speaking. “Are you okay, Jake?” 

Suddenly feeling extra scrutinized, Jake leaned back in his chair. He was trying to give off the image that he was fine, that everything was fine. His voice gave him away. It was higher than normal. If that hadn’t been enough, it cracked right in the middle of his words. “What? Of course I’m okay. What?” 

Holt raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I will be here if you need. I know Amy doesn’t seem like herself. Let me know if I can help in any way, son.” 

Jake had reverted to looking back down, but at the end of his sentence, he snapped his head back up to look at him. He held his eye contact for a moment, but didn’t say anything. 

“Dismissed,” Holt finally announced. 

Jake swallowed. For some reason, this was what was sending him over the edge. He desperately wanted to get up and leave the room, to escape to a case, any case, but no matter how many times he tried to stand, he couldn’t get his body to cooperate with his thoughts. “Thank you, sir. That’s-” His voice cracked again, so he stopped talking. He leaned forward, pressing his elbow on the desk and resting his chin on his palm. He squeezed his eyes shut tight. 

“Peralta, do you need to take the day?” 

Jake took a deep breath, eyes still closed, before opening his eyes and pushing himself up out of the chair all in one motion. “Nope. Distraction. Thank you though, Captain.” 

Jake watched as Holt nodded, standing up to join Jake. He walked around the edge of the desk and clapped his hand on Jake’s back gently. Jake took another deep breath before turning to leave the room. As soon as he stepped out the door, Charles was calling his name. 

“Hey, Jake. I have a suspect in the interrogation room I need you to pop in on. Asked for you by name.” 

“Asked for me by name?” Jake looked at Charles suspiciously. “Judy? Why is Doug Judy back?” 

Charles shook his head. “It’s not… Just come on.” 

Jake followed Charles with a quick shrug of his shoulders. It didn’t really matter who it was. All that mattered was that he would have work to do, something to get his mind off of her. Charles opened the door to the interrogation room and Jake traipsed in, not even taking care to look before he entered. It wasn’t until the door slammed behind him that he realized something was wrong. First, he whipped around to face the door. He tried the handle, only to realize the door had been locked. He had a suspicion about what he would see when he turned around, and a slow turn revealed that he was exactly correct. 

Sitting at the interrogation table was none other than Amy Santiago. The Amy Santiago that he loved more than anything. The Amy Santiago that he wanted nothing more than to be distracted from. Well, that wasn’t true. What he wanted more than anything was for her to want him. For things to be normal. But clearly that wasn’t going to happen for him, so he would have to settle for wanting to be distracted from how much he wanted her to want him. 

Her eyebrows were wrinkled together as she looked at him. It was the face she made when she was confused. She made the same face when he took her on a secret date the year before. She’d been trying to guess where he was taking her for the entire car ride, and each time he looked at her, she had the same face that was pulling her lips into that cute little frown in front of him. He turned toward the mirror. 

“Ha-ha, Charles. Very funny. Let us out.” He placed his hand on his hip for emphasis. Charles would know he was serious. 

Charles lit up the glass so they could see him. “No. You two need to talk about this and sort this out. It makes no sense that you’re walking around here _separated_. Amy isn’t even wearing her ring! Don’t think I haven’t noticed.” 

Amy quickly covered her left hand with her right, hiding her finger with a little bare tan line from Charles’ eyes. 

Jake threw his hands up in the air. “You think _this_ is going to help? Charles, c’mon. Seriously, let us out.” 

“You have to tell her, Jake.” 

“Tell her what?” 

Charles rolled his eyes dramatically. “How much you love her. Everything. Tell her about Jimmy Jabs.” 

“Jimmy Jabs?” Amy piped up from behind him. He spun on his heel to look at her. “What is he talking about?” 

Jake shrugged. “I, uh… I don’t know.” 

“Listen, Jake. If you don’t tell her, I will. It was the seventh annual Jimmy Jab games-”

He whipped back around to face Charles. “Charles, stop!” 

“The year I won?” 

This time, slowly. Jake turned back toward Amy, eyes tracing over her. God, this was so fucking stupid. “It was so long ago, Ames. It really doesn’t even matter.” 

“Oh my god… You let me win.” She was shaking her head at him. “You let me win the Jimmy Jabs?” 

He took a deep breath and glanced angrily over his shoulder at Charles before continuing. “Ames, it’s really not that simple. I had that whole bet going with Rosa about-” He took a deep breath. “Well, about you. I was so hung up on you, and I had been trying to get over you, but it just didn’t matter what I did, you were all I thought about. All my dates were shitty. So I asked Rosa for her friend Katie’s number. So we made a bet. If I could win the Jimmy Jabs and stop flirting with you, I’d get her number.” 

“But you didn’t win the Jimmy Jabs. And you still got her number. Right?” 

Jake nodded. By this point, he had made his way to the other side of the table and sat down across from her. “I also didn’t stop flirting with you. Rosa said it wasn’t like me to get hung up on a girl like that, so she gave me Katie’s number anyway. To help me get over you.” Jake rolled his eyes. This was feeling pretty applicable to their current situation. Amy should be able to see that if it didn’t work years ago, before they were even together, that of course he wouldn’t be able to get over her now that they had been _married_. “Clearly it didn’t work.” 

“So how did you do it?” Her eyes were intense, dark almost, as she looked back at him.

“Do what?” He was tentative in his words, not wanting to set off something that he feared, based on her demeanor, was looming just beneath the surface. 

“How did you let me win?” 

He sighed. “When you were running to the elevator, I was pressing the open button instead of the close button. I wanted you to make it on and have a chance. I didn’t let you win, _exactly_.”

“So I won the seventh annual Jimmy Jabs… and it was all a lie?” 

“Ames-”

“No, Jake. This is exactly the problem.” 

He frowned at her. “The problem is that I let you win the jimmy jabs like five years ago? What are you talking about?” 

She huffed and tossed her hands up in the air. “You’re too _perfect_. You let me win, and you don’t ever try to sway my decisions, and you give me space, and you love me, and you kiss me when you give me those stupid shots and you-” She stopped short to take a deep, broken breath. “You love me. Unconditionally, all the time.” 

Jake was shaking his head softly. “And that’s… a problem?” 

She groaned. “Yes, that’s a problem! God, Jake. It’s a problem because I’m-” She paused to try to steady her breathing. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly by now. “I’m broken. I can’t have a baby and I’m not willing to compromise on it and I’m difficult and frustrating and I’m sorry. I’m _so_ fucking sorry. But this just… It isn’t-”

“Babe, no. Please, c’mon. You’re not any of those things. Hey, look at me.” He reached across the table and tipped her chin up gently with his hand. “Amy, you’re not broken. You’re not broken, and you’re just the right amount of difficult. I would rather spend a billion frustrating moments with you than one regular moment with someone else-”

“This is exactly what I’m saying. Even as I’m telling you that I’m not changing my mind on this, you’re doing it as we speak. We need _space_ , Jake. That means less time together at work and no time together outside of work. At least for now.” 

“I just don’t understand why it has to be this way, Ames. We’re a team. We’re supposed to handle things like a team.” 

She shook her head. “But that’s just the thing. We’re not a team right now. We’re on opposite teams right now.” 

He could feel the confusion washing over his features. “But… I love you. Don’t you love me?” 

She looked away, down at the table. She opened her mouth to speak, but then hesitated. Finally, she looked back up at him. “Of course, I love you.” 

“Then we _are_ on the same team.” 

“No, Jake. I’m on a different team _because_ I love you. Because I can see things without the bias that you have for me.”

Jake was shaking his head now. “No. You have your own bias about yourself, and about me, too. I think maybe Holt was right, maybe we need to schedule an appointment with that counselor and-”

“Jake, that’s just not what I want right now.” 

He scoffed. “What about what I want? Doesn’t that matter?”

She turned her body in her chair so she was no longer facing him. She was sniffling softly and bringing her hand to her face, to wipe away the tears that he couldn’t see falling. 

“Ames?”

Her voice was shaky as she spoke. “I have to put on my oxygen mask first, Jake. Because if I can’t save myself, I can’t save this relationship.”

“But why can’t I help? Why can’t I help you to get through this? We can work through all of this together. Just like every other problem we’ve had in our relationship-”

Amy cut him off with her laughter. “What other problems? The fight about your towel? The mattress? Whose apartment we’d be living in? All those problems that you compromised on, like you always do. It’s just proof that I’m right.” 

He slammed his fist down on the table. Amy jumped at the sound and turned to face him. Tears streaked across her cheeks. Jake quickly stood to move his chair over next to her.

“Charles, c’mon, that’s enough, man. She’s done.” 

He waited a moment, no response. He stood back up and walked over to the window, knocking out a beat against the glass. No response. 

“He’s gone, Jake. He left.”

Jake turned dejectedly and made his way back over to the table. He sat down next to Amy, reaching over and pulling her against his chest. Her soft cries grew into what could only be described as sobbing. Jake could feel tears stinging in his own eyes as he held her there, fingers tracing through her hair. He had held her like this more times than he could count. After a few minutes, she began to calm down. Her breathing settled to a regular rate and she nestled her face in against his chest. 

This could be it. 

This could be the last time he held her like this. 

The realization had him pulling her closer to him, possessively running his hands over her shoulders. He wanted to fill the silence with all of the words he had in his head, but he knew none of it would matter. She had already made up her mind. She needed space. She needed time to work through things by herself _before_ they came back together. But she made it sound like she eventually wanted to work things out between them. 

She stirred against his chest and pushed herself mostly off of him. When she looked up at him, their faces were so close. Looking back, he would do things differently. But he saw her eyes flicker down to his lips. He saw her tongue dart out, running over her own soft, bottom lip. He’d been here before. He knew what that meant. And it was all so new. She had just kissed him a few days before. So when she looked back up at him, eyes innocent, but still glistening from her tears, he closed the distance between them. 

It was not unlike a lot of the kisses they had shared. It was slow. It was giving. He met her lips almost nervously, moving to cup her face with both hands. The hand pressed against his chest curled around his shirt, pulling him just the slightest bit closer. The intention remained the same, but the kiss got more and more intense until they were breaking apart for air. She leaned her forehead against his and even without seeing it, he could feel the tension in her forehead. 

His palm was still pressed against her cheek as they sat together, their shaky breathing the only sound in the room. He swallowed hard and rubbed his thumb against her cheek before pulling away to look at her. He wished he held onto that moment just a little longer. 

When his eyes fell upon her face, she looked away. She cleared her throat quietly before speaking. “Jake… I want you to know that it’s okay if you find someone else. I don’t expect you to wait around while I figure all of this out.” 

He could feel his face twisting up. They were just kissing, and now she’s telling him to find someone else? “Amy, are you- I’m not gonna find someone else.” 

She pushed her chair away from the table and stood up, pacing away from him. “Maybe you should. Maybe you should at least try. You know, take off your wedding band, go to-”

“This is ridiculous. You see that, right? I mean, are you going to go out looking for someone else?”

The silence between them was more than he could take. _Please say no please say no please say no please say no._

“I mean, would it help you to try if I said yes?” 

“Nothing’s going to help me to try. I’m not gonna try.”

She turned back around to look at him. “You should.” 

They both turned to the door when they heard Holt’s voice echoing through the hallway outside. 

“Boyle, what’s happening between them is none of your concern! This is inappropriate, not to mention a complete waste of what could have been productive time.” The handle turned and the door opened. 

“I’m not going to apologize, sir. I’m worried about them, they _needed_ to be together so they could talk it all out.”

Amy was standing in the doorway. Jake made a point of pushing past her without actually touching her body, holding her eye contact intensely as he moved past. “Yeah, Charles. That’s _exactly_ what we needed. I’m taking the rest of the day, Captain.” 

He took off down the hallway without another word, but he couldn’t help but to spare a glance behind him. Amy was out in the hallway now, watching him walk away with a frown on her face. 

\--

He never missed this stupid apartment. He never missed the loft bed that he had to climb when he was tired (or drunk). Both of which he currently was. What he did miss, was Amy’s touch. When he last lived here, traces of her were everywhere. Her clothes, her toothbrush, the painting she bought because his walls were just so plain. Pictures of her. Her coffee creamer and boring wheat cereal made their home in his kitchen. He picked up a box of that cereal while he was at the store, but he knew it wasn’t actually hers and it didn’t feel the same. 

Now it was an empty apartment. Void of all things except the clothes and necessities that he brought with him. He didn’t bring most of his things with him because A. he was going to be coming back home (right?), so why move everything twice? and B. that would give him an excuse to see her, whenever he stumbled across something he needed that he left there. The only trace of her was a photograph that sat on the bedside table. In a gold frame, Amy on her first day as a sergeant. 

He made his way slowly up the ladder, a ladder he had climbed to join Amy when she was waiting for him in his bed countless times. He tried his hardest not to think about that as he made his way up, not to be disappointed when the bed came into view and a sleepy, messy-bun clad Amy was not curled up in his blankets. He pulled his clothes off one piece at a time, stumbling slightly when he pulled off his jeans, then sauntered over to his bed. He picked up her picture and thumbed over the edges of the frame. 

It was hard to be here. It was hard to be in a place that had been so full of her at one time. From where he sat in his bed, he could see practically the entire apartment. Overlooking the entire place was like opening his brain to all of the hundreds of memories he’d made with her there. The two of them snuggled in the windowsill, people watching on a Saturday morning. The many movie nights they’d shared. All of the times that they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other long enough to make it up that ladder, so they settled for the couch or the floor or the kitchen counter. He thought to himself that he was glad he couldn’t see the bathroom, so he wouldn’t be reminded of the times he spent with her in there, steam enveloping them as she wrapped her legs around his hips, leaving nail marks in his back that burned more than the glare she sent his way when they arrived to work a few minutes late. 

When he closed his eyes, he could see her in bed next to him. He dotted kisses from her shoulder across her bare back. She was wrapped up in his gray sheets. It was early in the summer, if he remembered correctly, and the morning light from the window had the exposed skin down to her lower back practically glowing. They had only been dating for a few weeks. She stirred in her sleep as his fingertips moved against her skin, tracing in ways that he _knew_ would tickle. She turned her head to look at him, his favorite sleepy smile in place on her lips. 

But when he opened his eyes, it was dark. It was dark, and in Amy's spot, there was no one. The ceiling spun as he looked up at it, a side effect of too much liquor. Typically when Jake was this drunk, he and Amy would lay in bed together, talking and giggling amongst themselves until the ceiling slowed down. He would fall asleep with her curled comfortably into his side. Now he felt as cold and empty as his bed. 

This isn’t what he had pictured. 

He scrolled through his phone, vision almost as blurry as his head, and glanced through his unread messages. Messages from Charles, messages from Rosa, a message from Terry. But none from Amy. He shook his head, trying to shake the thought of her out of his mind, and shut off his phone. He had the next day off, and he intended on sleeping through the entire day.

He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow, a pillow that did not smell like her, and after a long bout of silently hating everything, fell asleep.

Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shrug shrug shrug shrug
> 
> I have a chapter I looooooove so much already written, but it's a few chapters in the future. 
> 
> You guys are honestly going to hate me for this story but trust that I will noooot end this in a way that you will hate. ¨̮ 
> 
> Call me bad names in the comments ¨̮


	4. don't even take this bet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Fall Out Boy's A Little Less than Sixteen Candles, a Little More "Touch Me." 
> 
> _Write me off,_  
>  _Give up on me,_  
>  _'Cause darlin' what did you expect?_
> 
> _I'm just off,_  
>  _A lost cause,_  
>  _A long shot,_  
>  _Don't even take this bet._
> 
> _You can make all the moves,_  
>  _You can aim all the spotlights,_  
>  _Get all the sighs and the moans just right._
> 
> _I'm sleeping on your folks' porch again, dreaming,_  
>  _She said, she said, she said,_  
>  _"Why don't you just drop dead?"_
> 
> _I don't blame you,_  
>  _For being you._  
>  _But you can't blame me,_  
>  _For hating it._
> 
> _So say, "What are you waiting for?_  
>  _Kiss her, kiss her."_  
>  _I set my clocks early 'cause I know I'm always late._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little quick, a little short, a little unedited, a little more positive. 
> 
> HmmmmmmmmMMMMMMMMMMMst. 
> 
> But that title though??????

The days passed slowly, but the weeks flew by. 

He found himself staring at the elevator every time it beeped, waiting to see if it was Amy who was preparing to step into the bullpen. It was a little bit distracting. Though, if he was being honest, stealing glances at the elevator doors throughout the day probably wasted a lot less time than his jokes and bets with Amy did. It was probably more productive that way. 

That was all, at least, until Amy’s floor was being renovated, causing her entire squad to have to move onto his floor. He couldn’t be sure if this was the universe’s strange attempt at humor, if this was some sort of plan that Holt had, or if he was really just thinking too far into all of this, but he was betting on the universe. 

He made his way into the precinct even slower than he used to. When he stepped through the elevators each morning, he tried his hardest to avoid looking across his desk to see if she was there. He always failed. He’d sneak glances at her throughout the morning. He had a nice little mental checklist that he would run through each day. It would’ve made her proud. 

Was she getting enough sleep? Did she have bags under her eyes? Was she stressed about a case? How tall was the pile of paperwork in front of her? Had she eaten? Sometimes he would set a muffin, a bagel, or a cup of coffee on the corner of her desk when she was away if he had any inclination that she needed something. The first few times, she’d asked who had done it, but when she found that her coffee order was always made to her liking, she knew it was him. Every now and then, she’d make eye contact with him, nodding slightly in appreciation. They never spoke about it. He was grateful for this. 

Before the uniformed officers moved to his floor, things were much easier for him. 

He was living a routine life for those two months. Routine was fine, albeit sad and a little bit lonely. Jake and Amy avoided one another at work to the best of their abilities, and chose to avoid each other in their home life, as well. The first few times the squad went to Shaw’s after the separation, both Jake and Amy were absent. 

After being cornered by Charles and Rosa in the evidence lock-up, he had a change of heart. Charles had begged him to come hang out _like old times, Jakey!_ Rosa, on the other hand, opted for threatening him. The entire dynamic of the squad had changed after he and Amy split. She knew that he was going through some stuff, but there was no reason that he couldn’t make time for his friends. After commanding Charles to leave, she softened a little. 

“You’ll feel better, you know.” She shrugged, as if she was trying to be nonchalant as she said it. “More normal. You need to lean on all of us or whatever.” He could feel her eyes on him and it was only making him more uncomfortable. “Jake.” 

Jake shrugged back at her. “I’ll think about it.” 

That Friday, he walked into Shaw’s. He’d taken the time to go home and shower before he went, thinking that would give him a chance to just stay home if he wasn’t feeling up to it. Once he was in the confines of the apartment, Rosa’s words got into his head and, subsequently, under his skin. 

She was right. He missed his friends. He missed hanging around at Shaw’s, bitching about cases with them, singing karaoke sometimes. He missed the occasional drinking games and frequent challenges. He missed Charles babbling about his weekly food blast and Rosa glaring through Hitchcock’s latest weird story. He missed when Captain Holt would hang around, sometimes sharing his own stories, but often just existing in the collective space with them. He even missed the way Scully would choke down whatever food was in front of him, making everyone else gag. Once he even finished a plate of food that was abandoned on someone else’s table, much to Amy’s-

Amy. 

That was the problem. 

He missed all of that, but what he missed even more was sitting in a booth at Shaw’s, Amy’s thigh pressed against his as they all scooched together to make room for the whole squad. He missed sharing knowing glances with her as they sipped their beer quietly. They’d talk about whatever happened later, in the privacy of their bedroom, about whatever friend had done whatever thing that caused the glance in the first place. Amy was so entwined in every part of his life that trying to disentangle from her was proving not only to be uncomfortable, but essentially impossible. 

As badly as he wanted to be in the familiar space of Shaw’s, a place he frequented with friends and coworkers long before he met his wife, he couldn’t imagine being there _after_. After she had left him. After she had made so many unforgettable memories. After he had felt her rhythmic breath falling against his ear as she laughed at one of his jokes, then whispered back one of her own. And what if she was there? 

She wouldn’t be. Obviously they wouldn’t convince both of them to show up on the same night, like some sort of knock-off Parent Trap where they showed up, got a little tipsy, and fell back in love with each other. That couldn’t happen anyway, because it wasn’t like he had fallen _out_ of love with her, so he couldn’t fall back _in_ love with her.

He was still thinking through the dynamics of that whole situation when he walked into the bar. 

“Jake!” Charles practically tackled him when he saw him. Jake was laughing quietly as he tried to maintain his balance with Charles basically hanging off of his back. 

“Okay, okay,” Jake yelled, still laughing. Charles released him and he straightened, looking toward their usual table, where he caught one set of eyes immediately staring at him. He turned to glare at Charles, who held his hands up innocently, and then he settled an accusatory glance at Rosa. 

When Amy stepped away to get another drink, Rosa whispered that she hadn’t talked to her about it, she didn’t know that she was planning on coming. Her plan had been to bother Amy about coming in the following week so that they didn’t end up awkwardly sitting across from one another. 

“Like we are right now?” Jake huffed as he said it, throwing a quick tantrum before Amy sauntered back over to the table. He slapped his fake smile back into place. 

All in all, it could have gone worse. It definitely wasn’t _comfortable,_ per se, but worse things had happened to him. Maybe those few cases that Holt had put them on together had helped to prepare him for being around her in other parts of his life. For the most part, they joined in conversation together with their friends, mostly choosing not to comment on things the other had said. 

There was one slip up, though. 

They had been there for a few hours. They’d all had so much to drink. 

“Okay, I mean, like, I’m gonna order the cheese bread, right? I’m going to.” Amy commented for probably the twelfth time. When they were together, Jake would have ordered the cheese bread approximately fifteen minutes before this moment. He was contemplating on just ordering it anyway so he didn’t have to watch her being so unbearably _adorable_. It was actually making him mad, the way she’d scrunch her nose up as she bothered Rosa about her opinion on the cheese bread. Charles popped in to talk about how the _best_ cheese bread in Brooklyn was actually at- but he was interrupted by Amy making that cute face and proclaiming that the best in Brooklyn is whatever one is in her mouth tonight. 

“‘Best in Brooklyn is whatever one is in my mouth tonight,’ title of Santiago’s sex tape.” He punctuated the joke with a swig from his bottle. The entire table fell silent and Amy was staring at him, lips parted in surprise. He had barely spoken to her all night- hell, he had barely spoken to her in two months except when he couldn’t avoid it, and then… 

“Sorry,” Jake said this a little quieter, feeling embarrassed about his joke. This was something he would say when things were normal, which things were not, at the moment. 

The silence remained until Amy’s quiet giggle escaped her lips, which she tried to cover in order to keep the laughter hidden. When Jake’s lips upturned at the sound, her laugh expanded until she was leaned backward, looking like she may tip out of her chair. Everyone at the table laughed with her. 

Maybe things weren’t actually as weird as he had previously thought they would be. 

But the quiet little drunken moan she made when she finally bit into a piece of cheese bread a while later did things to him that he wasn’t comfortable talking about. It had been two months since he had heard a sound resembling that from her lips, and hearing it even in the context of ‘whatever one is in her mouth’ had his stomach doing little flips. Hopefully that was something he’d get used to as their trips to Shaw’s became a little more regular. 

And it was, for the most part. 

It was when she moved floors, that everything became a little more tense. 

See, things had felt almost normal between them when they were at Shaw’s. They were both just a part of the squad, two pieces of the puzzle that made up their weird group of friends. So some of that normalcy wormed its way into their lives in other places where they saw one another. When they were only seeing each other at odd little times throughout the day, that was fine. He would make the occasional joke when he saw her, she’d laugh or roll her eyes, depending on her mood, and they’d go about their days. 

But now she was sitting across from him. 

That was her desk while they were dating, for the first part of their relationship. Even into them being engaged. It hadn’t been uncommon for one of them to steal a quick kiss from the other while going by or to whisper quick, dirty promises into the other’s ear during a seemingly innocent hug. So having Amy across from him was doing all sorts of things to his brain, confusing him in all sorts of new ways. 

They were all seated together in the bullpen, joking about some perp’s name when Amy leaned her head to the side, working to try to massage the sore spot in her neck. Jake had been leaning on the back of a chair behind her. Without even thinking, he found himself behind her, hands working over the skin he’d touched so many times. She was leaning into his touch, into the warmth and comfort that his hands kneaded into her tense neck and shoulders. He didn’t even realize how strange it all was until he saw Rosa’s expression, watching uncomfortably like she had just witnessed a terrible car crash. At that sight, Jake’s hands slowed. He pulled away from her uncomfortably and stepped backward, mumbling something about “was that a flamingo that just flew by?” (good cover or _great_ cover?) and then sitting at his desk, staring intensely at his computer screen like there was actually something important on it. 

Actually, he was watching Amy from his peripheral vision, the frequent glances that she stole, watching to see what he did next. 

Weird moments like that were happening more and more frequently. 

Then one night at Shaw’s, things somehow fell into place. Everyone had jumped up to run over and see the “ _crazy_ game of pool” that Terry was playing against some stranger. Jake hadn’t felt like going, but he was watching the group from his place at the table. She coughed lightly to his right, startling him and alerting him that she was still there. 

“Ames- Sorry, I… I guess I thought you went with them.” 

She nodded. “It’s fine.” 

He looked back toward the pool tables, wondering to himself if he should just make his way over there to avoid the moment he found himself in. The air was feeling thicker by the second. He could feel her eyes on him, so he glanced over to her. What was she looking at? 

“Hey, can we… talk?” She finally said. 

He shrugged. “Talk? Sure. About what?” 

She shrugged and looked down at the table, playing with somebody’s discarded straw wrapper. “I don’t know. Just- work, I guess. Things have been weird.” He was looking at her with a perplexed expression, at which she continued. “Between us.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “Yeah. That.” 

“Yeah, that,” she repeated quietly. Things were not feeling less weird at the moment. They were both silent, staring at the table. Jake tapped his fingers a few times. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally announced, looking at her face again. “It’s just been weird for me, I think. The last time that was your desk…” He trailed off, looking back to their group of friends sadly. 

He felt her hand tracing his forearm. “I know.” 

He looked down at her hand on his arm, which she hesitantly pulled back. 

“Maybe…” She continued. “I don’t know, tell me if this is weird for you.” 

He laughed stalely. “All of this is weird for me, Ames.”

Her accompanying laugh was soft and humorless. “I’m sorry.” 

It went silent for another moment before Jake nudged her. “Well c’mon, Santiago. What is it?” 

She laughed. “That.” He looked at her, clearly confused, so she laughed again. “I was thinking that maybe the way we can make this feel less awkward is just by being normal.” 

He laughed. “Oh god, you’re absolutely right. Let me just- _be normal_.” He mimed putting on a hat, like some sort of normal hat or something. Stupid, like that suggestion. 

She punched him in the arm lightly. “No, stupid. I mean- like this. Joking, and arguing, and… I don’t know. Like before.”

He made a face at her, before dropping his stare down to the table. 

“What?” 

He shrugged. “Like we never happened.” 

When he looked back at her, her expression hardened. “No. No, Jake. That’s not what I meant.” 

He nodded, but kept his eyes away from her. It was becoming too much for him again, all of a sudden. She was feeling less like Amy, his friend, and more like Amy, his estranged wife. 

“Jake…” When he didn’t look at her, she placed her hand on his cheek, guiding his face in her direction gently. Her fingers lingered near his jaw for a moment even after he was looking at her. “I would _never_ want to forget about us. I would never want to forget that we happened. You’re-” She paused thoughtfully. “You’re so important to me. And even though I’m not…” She shrugged and looked away momentarily before settling her searching eyes back on his face. “Even though I’m not in the right place for all of this right now, that isn’t what I meant.” 

He kept her gaze for a moment, processing all that she had said, before nodding. 

He couldn’t help but to believe the best in her. Maybe it was because he loved her so much. Maybe it was because he _wanted_ the seeds of hope that she had just planted in his stupid head. Maybe he didn’t want to think about the possibility that they would never be together again. But acting like they _used to_ , like things were normal, like things were friendly and okay between them, sounded like the best idea he had heard in a long time. 

“Bet I can do it way better than you.” He was smirking at her. 

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Bet you can do what way better than me?”

He shrugged. “Act like before.” 

She laughed loudly. “Bet you can’t.” 

He extended his hand forward. “First one with an awkward reaction loses?”

She eyed him carefully, probably sizing up the bet and wondering if she should specify more clearly what ‘an awkward reaction’ is, before she extended her hand forward. When she was about to grab his hand, he pulled his back. 

“Oh, and one more thing: Try not to fall in love with me.” He winked at her. 

She pursed her lips for a moment, trying not to smile at the callback to their oldest bet. “Won’t be a problem, Peralta.” 

So he re-extended his hand, and they shook firmly in the middle. 

But now _he_ was wondering: what exactly _was_ an awkward reaction? Because from where he was at, firm grip on Amy’s hand and an intense look in her eyes, he really wanted to pull her in for a kiss. 

Did that count as awkward? 

Their friendship was still far from effortless, but it was much easier to be around her than it had been a couple of months earlier. But would he ever stop thinking about the way her lips pressed together in the corner when she was lost in thought? The way her eyes twinkled when she looked up at him, through her eyelashes the way she did when he’d said just the right thing? The way her eyebrows pulled together slightly when she was frustrated or disappointed? 

The way she looked at him when they were alone, like there was no one else in the world but the two of them? 

Would he ever stop thinking about _that?_

She raised her eyebrows playfully at him and finished her beer before elbowing him in the shoulder and flashing a quick smile. She trailed off toward the pool tables. He watched wistfully as she walked away. 

Because it would be a lot easier to be her friend if he could stop imagining that he was seeing that look in her eyes. 

And god, he hoped it would be a lot easier now that there was a bet between them. If there was anything that could make them feel like _them?_

It was a bet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BuT tHaT TiTLe ThOuGh???????


	5. this just don't feel right

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title back from Happier. 
> 
> Rushing to post this before I have to get ready for work. It's a pretty short one, but I think the next one will be much longer. ¨̮ 
> 
> _And only for a minute,_  
>  _I want to change my mind,_  
>  _'Cause this just don't feel right to me._

“Okay, but c’mon,” she rolled her eyes at him. “Seriously. We need to get a little more serious about the stakes and everything, here.” 

Jake sighed. They’d been talking about this for almost an hour, now. They’d thrown around probably nothing short of a thousand different possibilities for what they’d each get if they won. He had been staring at the grain of the wood in his desk, trying his hardest not to roll his eyes at her annoying tendency to list out all the rules, when he felt the little lightbulb in his brain blink on. 

“I know what I want.” 

“What?” 

“When I win,” he continued. “I know what I want.” He was smirking at her now. Her eyebrows scrunched together. She was already glaring at him, and she hadn’t even heard his terms. She wasn’t wrong, though. She gestured for him to continue. 

“I mean, we haven’t told our parents, right? About the split, I mean.” He was so excited about the idea that he breezed right past this fact. “I assume we’re not going to, at least not until we’re sure exactly what it means?” 

She raised an eyebrow. “If you win, I’m the one who has to tell them?”

He laughed. “No. That would be _nothing_ compared to this.” She raised her eyebrows, waiting and trying not to look as nervous as he could easily tell she was. “If I win this bet, you have to cook an entire Thanksgiving dinner for both the Peralta and Santiago sides of the family. Brothers, kids, and all. I’ll even invite my sister.” 

“Jake, I can’t _cook_.” 

He shook his head at her, adding a flourish of his wrist as he gestured toward her. “That’s the _point_ , Ames.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him. “So you want me to ruin a turkey and Thanksgiving for both of our families? That’s what you would waste your win on?” 

No. Not really. If he was being honest, what he wanted was to move back in with her. He wanted their old life back, the simplicity of their interactions. He wanted her love. Unfortunately, he was pretty sure he couldn’t bet her into loving him. At least not so obviously. 

He shook his head. “Oh, no, no, no. You won’t be cooking a turkey. You’ll be cooking a list of bizarre and obscure foods that I will compile. Perhaps with the help of a certain… Charles Boyle.” 

She narrowed her eyes. “You wouldn’t.” 

“Oh, I _absolutely would_.” 

She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “Fine. Then if I win, I’m going to convince Holt to do a music video promo for the nine-nine.” 

Jake gasped, excitement lighting up his features. “Oh my god, that would be- wait… Why? That’s not a punishment. I would _love_ that.” 

Amy tapped her fingers together mischievously. Jake watched closely as her tongue darted across her bottom lip, pulling it in between her teeth momentarily before a proud smirk was present on her face. That _couldn’t_ be a good sign. 

“You can’t be involved. _At all._ ” 

His face fell a little at this news. “That’s fine. I’ll be happy just to watch it.” 

She shook her head. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ll make sure that’s not true. This promo will only feature songs you _hate_.” He looked a little uncomfortable, but when she started listing off songs, he was horrified. She counted off on her fingers as she spoke. “I’m talkin’ _You Look So Perfect_ by Five Seconds of Summer, I’m talkin’ _Seventeen Forever_ by Metrostation, I’m talking _Pillowtalk_ by Zayn, I’m talkin’ _Blurred Lines_ by Robin Thicke-”

“Oh my god, _stop!_ No. How can you take the best thing in the world and turn it into such a terrible monstrosity?” 

She was laughing. “What, Peralta? Gonna back out of the bet so soon?” 

“Of course not. I’m not gonna lose, anyway. But I am changing my stakes again.” Now Amy was the one rolling her eyes. He jutted his chin forward toward her. “You gave me an idea. Something that would _horrify_ you. If I win, we’re going to Queens.” 

Amy was inspecting him closely, waiting for him to continue. “Ooookay… Why is that significant?” 

His laugh was borderline maniacal, to a point that even _he_ heard it. “Because, my innocent friend. In Queens, graffiti is _legal_.” 

Amy narrowed her eyes. “So you’re going to make me… do graffiti? And it’s… legal?” Jake nodded at her. “That doesn’t really sound that bad.” 

Jake leaned back in his chair, propping his arms up behind his head. He was _positive_ that this was the right choice. “Yeah, I agree. But if you think about it… Amy Santiago, spray paint in hand, staring at the blank canvas of a brick wall, untouched by any blemishes, untouched by any paint at all… And then you’re going to be the one defacing public property… Can you see it? God, I can just see your face.” 

When he looked back at Amy, she had that look in her eyes. The look that she got when realization dawned on her, when the panic of something she did or was going to do overcame her. He smiled and waggled his eyebrows at her. “We have a deal?”

She extended her arm forward. “We have a deal. I hope you enjoy the music video, because I know I’ll have a lot of fun making it.” 

He shook her hand firmly. “That’s _if_ you can convince him to make it.” 

Her expression faltered, hand still in his. Perhaps she hadn’t thought about how difficult it could be to arrange this. That possibility brought a smile to his face. 

“ _You_ might think it’ll be a little hard, but…” she paused to shrug. “Easy for me.” She tried to pull her hand away. 

He tightened his grip, keeping her in place. “A Little Hard, But Easy for Me. Title of your sex tape.” He quickly released her, sitting back in his chair and propping his feet up on his desk.

She rolled her eyes. “Ha _ha_. Real professional, make a joke about a Holt sex tape.” 

“Sergeant _Santiago_ ,” Holt announced from behind her, causing her to jump. She turned to face him, trying her hardest to ignore Jake snickering behind her. 

“Sir, that- it wasn’t… Peralta-” 

“Inappropriate. From Peralta, I would understand… But I expect better from you.” He shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal at her, then returned to his office. 

She turned back to face Jake slowly, a glare already placed on her face. He was biting his lip to try to hide his smile. “Bet it’ll be harder now.” 

She threw her hands up in the air silently and returned to her neglected paperwork. 

\-- 

“And you think, given your history, that this bet will be a positive thing for you?”

Amy uncrossed her legs and drummed her fingers on her knees uncomfortably. 

“I mean… Maybe not. But things with Jake have been so weird. It’s not like we can just avoid each other, we sit across from each other at work.”

Her therapist nodded. “And this bet will make things less weird?” 

Amy laughed. “A bet between me and Jake Peralta? Absolutely.”

The woman raised an eyebrow at Amy. “We _are_ talking about your husband, correct?” 

Amy mirrored the woman’s facial expression before nodding. 

“Do you think maybe it’s worth discussing why all these jokes and bets make things easier for you within your relationship?” 

Amy shook her head. “What? No. It’s not like _that_. That’s just what’s normal for us, ya’know?” 

The woman, Dr. Williams, nodded as if she understood, but inspected Amy in a way that made her uncomfortable. 

Amy was quickly getting frustrated. She didn’t like the way her relationship with Jake was being analyzed, even if part of the reason she had been making these weekly appointments had to do with the way her relationship with Jake currently… wasn’t. She loved Jake. And there was nothing wrong with their relationship when it was normal.

“It’s… Things aren’t weird between us normally,” Amy continued. “So the bets and the jokes and all of that… _That’s_ our normal. Things are weird between us right now because of… you know. The baby, the IVF, me… Neither of us really know how to act around each other. I think we’re trying to just feel normal even though nothing is normal right now.” 

“And how do you feel? About Jake? Any thoughts on ending the separation?”

Amy hesitated. “Well… I mean, I’ve thought about it… I’m feeling a lot better now that I’m off of the IVF. It’s easier for me to think a little more clearly. But I still think Jake should have the ability to have everything he wants. And he wants a family…” She looked down at the floor, shrugging dejectedly. “I can’t give him that.” 

Dr. Williams nodded. “And the antidepressants?” 

Amy nodded. “Doing their job, I think.” 

Dr. Williams nodded. “But you’re still unsure if you should continue your marriage, solely because of how you feel about this situation?” 

Sometimes it really felt like she just came here to talk to herself. “It’s not for _me_. I want Jake to have everything that he wants.” 

“And hasn’t Jake told you that he just wants to be with you?” 

Amy glared dubiously at the woman. She pushed her thick-framed glasses up on the bridge of her nose and smiled patiently at her. Ugh. “Yes. But that doesn’t mean that’s actually all he wants. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s put aside something he wants for me.”

“Yes. But it’s important to listen to your spouse. That’s how you learn what they want, what they need, and what you can do to benefit the relationship. If he’s saying that’s what he wants, it likely means that’s what he wants _most._ ”

Amy nodded quietly. What this woman wasn’t taking into account, she thought, was that a few years down the line, things could all change. And then what? When their friends were all having babies, sending them off to preschool? When every time Jake scrolled through facebook, there were cute videos of his friends from high school being silly with their children? What happened when Jake changed his mind, but he had already told her that this was all okay? Would she be stuck in a marriage full of quiet resentment? Would he be feeling the way that she was feeling a month or two ago?

She didn’t want that for him. 

So maybe it _was_ better to call it all off now. Even though she loved him. Even though she wanted him. Even though she was feeling more like herself. 

They had planned a future together. She never thought that she would be the reason that their future would unravel, yet here she is. Could they still have a future together? A different future? 

That was what scared her, she supposed. She loved Jake so much, and of course she knew that he felt the same way about her. But _what if_ that changed? What if he resented her so much for taking parenthood away from him that he stopped loving her? Was she just protecting herself? Or was this actually all for Jake?

She felt so inadequate. Though she was on much better terms with herself these days, she still couldn’t quell the hushed voice constantly whispering in her ear, telling her that she wasn’t enough for him. She accepted now that none of this was her fault, that this was all something that had just happened, but even with the added help of the antidepressants, she still had some really difficult days. 

She could pass by families all day and have no problem whatsoever, but then she’d catch a glimpse of just the right scenario and she’d be a wreck. A mother taking a video of her two young children hugging, the way parents in the parking lot would swing their toddler between the, each holding a hand. Things that she wanted, but would never have. She could see herself doing the same thing with Jake, swinging their baby with curly hair and a goofy smile, smiling at the child’s laughter. 

One day she found herself in the baby aisle at a store. She wasn’t sure when she started crying. She didn’t even realize until another woman, new infant in tow, rubbed her hand reassuringly on Amy’s back. This stranger pulled her in for a hug. It didn’t really make her feel better, but it did give her a sort of renewed hopefulness. Maybe things would be okay. Maybe, even if she couldn’t have the things she wanted, the world wasn’t a terrible place. 

She bought a baby blanket that day. A little white blanket with sunflowers plastered all over it. The opposite side was black. It was soft and pretty. Now when she was having moments like these, she’d pull the blanket out and just hold it. It made it a little easier to breathe, for some reason. 

“Is there anything else you’d like to talk about?” 

She shook her head. Nothing she wanted to talk about with her, at least. 

Her walk home was slow, deliberate. She was taking her time, because she knew when she got back, she’d be stuck in the same situation she always found herself in. Alone, looking at the pictures on the wall, and wishing he was there. 

But he couldn’t be. 

He _shouldn’t_ be.

It would just be confusing for both of them. 

But god, she wanted him. She wanted him here, sitting on the couch and arguing with her about what kind of takeout they should order. She wanted him to nuzzle his face into her neck and bite softly when she complained about how the stubble on his chin was too scratchy. She wanted the jokes and the bets and the love and the friendship. She wanted nothing in this world more than Jake Peralta. 

She pulled out her phone and scrolled to his contact. She looked at his picture, the dimple present in his cheek when he smiled just that way that he always did for her pictures. 

She wanted nothing more than him, except, she supposed, for him to be happy. 

So she put her phone away and crawled into bed without him. She wondered what he was doing, how he was feeling. She hoped things were getting easier for him as time went on. He deserved that. He deserved everything. 

Some days she wished that she was the one who left their home. Nights like this one, it was so difficult to go to sleep. She no longer felt better in his absence. She dreamed about him, only to wake up and find that he was nowhere to be found. 

This wasn’t what she had pictured. 

But perhaps it was what was best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just so sad for Amy because she's going through it within herself and feels like she can't even ask for Jake's help, but wbk Jake would be there to help her the second she needed it? 
> 
> They should be together okay???? 
> 
> What have I done????????


	6. even broken hearts may have their doubts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _And I hope this makes you happy now_   
>  _That the flame we had is burning out._   
>  _And I hope you like your pictures facing down,_   
>  _'Cause even broken hearts may have their doubts._
> 
> _And I'm taking all your memories off the shelf._  
>  _And I don't need you or anybody else._  
>  _So take a look at me, see what you want to see when you get home._
> 
> Title from Mayday Parade's If You Wanted a Song Written About You All You Had to Do Was Ask

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay.........................................

“Title of your sex tape!” 

Jake scoffed, flinging his hands up in the air. “That one didn’t even make _sense!_

Amy shrugged her shoulders in that irritating way she always did. Irritating because it was such a simple thing, but it was _so fucking cute_. She flashed a suggestive smile at him, then shrugged yet again. “Not my fault if my sexual humor is more experienced than yours is.”

He scoffed again, flourishing his wrist dramatically, before dropping his camera where it had been propped on the window sill and hanging it down by his legs. “Need we forget that _I_ showed _you_ your favorite position?” He paused. This was definitely it. This was the moment where he would win their bet. 

She scoffed back. “Oh, Jake. Sometimes you have to let a guy _think_ he’s showing you something new so you don’t hurt his ego.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, waiting for her to turn and catch a glimpse of his expression. “Okay, first, I think we both know my ego can take way more than you knowing how to do _that_ without my help. And I can’t tell if you’re telling the truth or not, but I’m turned on regardless.” 

She let her camera fall by her legs as well. “Listen, Peralta. You’re gonna have to try a little harder if you want me to get awkward around you. Sex talk just isn’t gonna do it. Been there.” She let her eyes scan down his body obviously, approvingly. “Done that.” 

He laughed. “Santiago! You’re bad.” He turned his head. “Bet I can get the first pic of our perp mid-deal.” He punctuated the sentence with a few snaps of his camera. 

“That wasn’t even _fair_.”

He smirked at her. “Awh, you want me to kiss it and make it better?” Even _he_ was cringing at that statement. That one had to get her. 

“Yes.”

Well, turns out two can play at the _I’ll make you uncomfortable first_ game. 

He didn’t even blink, trying to appear completely unfazed by her agreement, and leaned in slowly with the intention of kissing her. She held his eye contact, unmoving as he got closer. At the last second, he saw her eyes flash to the window. She turned away from him, shuffling to get her camera back up on the window sill, leaving him stumbling forward. After another off balance step, he caught himself on the wall and turned to glare at her. 

“What?” She asked, turning to smirk at him. “I saw something on the street that was pertinent to our investigation.” 

He walked over and pulled her camera up to look at. He hit a button, scrolling through the pictures. “You took a picture of the empty street, Santiago.” 

She shrugged innocently. “Oops. Thought I saw something. Oh, also, I have a question.” She tapped her finger on her cheekbone as she mimed thinking about her question. “Does trying to kiss me and then stumbling and almost falling count as an awkward reaction?” 

He scoffed. “ _No._ That’s like… physics or chemistry or something, not _awkward_.”

She laughed quietly. “It’s physics, Jake. I’ll give you this one time, but next time…” She shrugged pointedly at him. 

\--

This is how a lot of their days had been going. Weeks had passed since they’d started their bet. Some members of the squad were aware of it, doing their part in trying to create awkward scenarios for their friends. They had all been making their own bets on who would win. 

With the two of them being across from one another again at work, they were always aware of what cases the other was working on. She was a little bit annoyed the first time Jake caught sight of one of her big cases and bothered her until she finally agreed to let him on. A few weeks later and she was intentionally dropping hints about her cases, _hoping_ he would ask to join. 

It had been confusing. Things weren’t exactly going the way she had planned. She had been under the impression that she would be able to put her feelings aside, to work with Jake and be his friend and watch from afar to ensure that things were going well for him. One thing she was learning quickly was that putting her feelings aside was much easier said than done. She caught herself on more than one occasion standing too close, looking at him in that way that she _knew_ she did, even grabbing his bicep lightly as she laughed at one of his jokes. 

She thought, once, that she was falling out of love with him. 

It turned out that she was never falling out of love with him. She hadn’t been herself. Amy Santiago would always be in love with Jake Peralta. The problem was that for a moment, she _hadn’t_ been Amy Santiago. She had been this… shell of herself. She looked like her, she sounded like her, but she didn’t act like her. She didn’t _feel_ like her. And now that she was feeling like herself again, she was living in the aftermath of decisions that imposter Amy Santiago had made without even consulting her. 

But when she sat down and really thought about it, the decisions were for the best. Jake deserved better. He deserved a full life, where he could wake up and see his child’s little sparkly eyes as they gave him a run for his money in everything he had ever thought to be true about the world. He would be a perfect dad. And he _would_ be a dad. Even if she couldn’t be a mom. 

She just hadn’t anticipated this being _so_ hard. 

It had never been this hard with anyone else. She had never had so much trouble trying to step away from a relationship. She knew that logically this is what made sense, but she hadn’t expected it to hurt so bad. She hadn’t expected to still wake up in the middle of the night, months after they had split, startled because he was in her dream but he wasn’t in her bed. 

She hadn’t expected to fall back into their competitive rhythm so easily. She hadn’t expected it to feel so _normal_. She thought it would still be weird, that they wouldn’t be able to make bets on who could stay in their undercover persona longer, extending the bet from the case to the precinct to dinner and Shaw’s afterward, only to put it on pause when neither of them would give up and the bar was finally closing. Three days later, Holt threatened to suspend them both if Jake didn’t stop doing that terrible German accent at work, so they called that one even. 

But that’s how every day was. Another joke, another bet, another memory. Another reason to stay with Jake. Yet, the only reason she had to leave him managed to feel more important than any of the reasons to stay: so that he could have everything he wanted out of life. He was always so caring and selfless for her. It was her turn to do that for him. Even if it didn’t feel right. Even if it hurt. It would be better in the end. 

That’s what she kept telling herself. Every time she was left feeling empty in a moment that would normally be filled with his love, it would be better in the end. Every time she saw his expression fall just slightly when she cut off the joke in the place where it would’ve typically turned into a _come over here so I can shut you up_ , it would be better in the end. 

She could picture herself, five years from now, scrolling through pictures on instagram. She’d find his account, naturally, not because she looked at it all the time, of course. She’d see the first picture of him holding a tiny, little bundled up baby. She’d be able to see the glistening in his eyes that she knew would be there. She’d tap the little heart icon, watch as it went from the blank, emptiness, to being full of color. She worried that her own heart may never be full like that again, without him. 

But it would be better in the end. 

She was worried. She was caught up in herself, in thinking about her own feelings and how she would be affected by the thought that had been looming in the back of her mind. But what really tripped her up is how it would affect _him._ She could see him now, his eyebrows pinched together as his eyes filled with tears. She could hear his voice. _Amy, please. Please don’t do this._

But she could see right now that if things stayed the way they were, he would never abandon her. He would never leave to focus on himself. He would never try to find someone new, therefore he would never have that future, and this would have all been for nothing. 

There was only one thing she could think to do that would make this all better. 

She was staring at her computer screen. The cursor blinked in the search bar. She was the only one in the precinct. The silence was almost making her sick. It felt like a horror movie. Her breaths were falling so softly, yet they were so loud in the silence of the empty room. She could almost hear the suspenseful music getting louder and louder around her. 

Finally, before she could stop herself, she typed in the phrase she had come to the page to search for:

~~_How to get_ ~~

She thought better of that phrase and backspaced.

~~_How to begin the process of_ ~~

No, that wasn’t right. Short and simple.

_Divorce_

She took a deep breath and loomed the cursor over the search button. The loud _ding_ from the elevator snapped her out of her trance. She didn’t know how long she had been staring at the screen, refusing to click the button. 

“Morning, Ames,” she heard his voice call as he walked toward his desk. She quickly exited out of the screen, trying to look casual as she smiled at him. 

“Hey.” 

He began making his way toward her, a coffee and a bag in his left hand. She knew the items were for her. He’d been doing it all the time, lately. It’s like they were separated, but not actually. He still acted like her husband. He still worried about her and made sure she was eating, did his best to make sure she was doing okay. He would still ask her how she was doing all the time, his serious tone a stark contrast to the way he had been playfully mocking her when someone else was in the room with them seconds earlier. 

And god, she would miss all of this. 

_Divorce_.

She didn’t want to do it, but Jake would never move on unless she did. 

Jake smiled at her as he extended the bag toward her. She began to reach for it when something caught her eye. Her eyebrows scrunched together and her hand fell back onto her desk, a soft _thud_ breaking the silence that had resumed. Jake raised an eyebrow at her and set the bag down, but waited for her to take her coffee cup. 

She was staring at the cup in his hand. His left hand, curled around the cup. Their fingers would brush together when she took it, she knew. They did every morning. And every morning, it felt like a little touch of electricity shooting into her body, making her heart flutter. 

But every other morning, something else was different. 

Because every other morning, his wedding band would glint in the light as he waited for her to claim her little foam cup. 

But today, it didn’t. 

Today, there was no band on his fourth finger. 

She realized she must look strange, but she couldn’t take the cup.

“Hey, you okay?” He finally asked. 

She blinked, redirecting her attention to his face. She finally reached out and took the cup, setting it down in front of her. She hesitated. 

“Uh… yeah. Just… Your wedding band.” 

He looked down at his hand like he didn’t know what she was talking about. 

“Oh, yeah…” He trailed off, tucking his hands underneath her desk where she couldn’t see them. 

“You took it off?” 

He nodded, then seemed to hesitate. 

“Yeah. I… Uhm, I actually met someone.” 

Her stomach dropped. 

This is what she wanted. 

But her mouth couldn’t form words. Her brain couldn’t come up with thoughts that would even begin to explain what was happening inside her head. 

This is what she wanted. 

It would be better in the end.

Jake had _met someone._

...Good. Right?

_This is what she wanted._

But _fuck_ , it did _not_ feel like she wanted this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me don't hate me don't hate me don't hate me don't hate me


	7. i know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I've got a tight grip on reality but I can't_  
>  _Let go of what's a part of me here._  
>  _I know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up,_  
>  _Leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream, oh._
> 
> Title from Paramore's The Only Exception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Murder???????? Kind of? Specifically infanticide. I mean they're just investigating but it's not a great situation and it isn't explained tooooo in depth but oof, wanted to let y'all know. 
> 
> Tried to have a quick turn around for this chapter because I knew the last one ended so SKETCHY, but updates might be a little more irregular going forward because school starts back up again on Wednesday. ¨̮ RIP me and wish me luck I guess.

Time passed a little slower from there on. 

They were still mid-bet, still maintaining a little front of positivity, with jokes flying between them at a faster pace than ever before, but just below the surface, Amy was not okay. She was constantly thinking about him. She wanted more information about the person he’d met. Who was she? What was she like? Was it even a woman? Where did they meet? Could she ask him these sorts of questions?

There was a shift, after he told her. She nodded and said, “Oh, cool, cool, cool. Have you gotten the paperwork for the Evans case done?” He shook his head and she immediately got up and went in search of the proper paperwork, immersing herself in her work. She knew that he knew she was upset. But he didn’t follow her. 

_Because he met someone._

She wasn’t upset. She couldn’t be upset. She told him to do this. But she _was_ hurt. Whether she wanted to be or not. She didn’t want her husband to find someone new, she just wanted him to be happy. She wished that she could have both things. 

Then he was just so _annoying_. He was always on his phone, playing some stupid game at his desk or when he was in the passenger seat of the car. Or maybe he was texting her, she didn’t even know. He had little notes on notecards and she didn’t know what they were, but she felt this pang of irritation every time she caught him looking at them. He and Boyle would be talking quietly in the break room and when she would walk in, Boyle would loudly shout about how Jake was _alone, he would be eating dinner alone tonight, not with a woman_ , before he would make a break for it, leaving Jake rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably and avoiding her gaze. 

After Jake met someone, they were still competitive, but instead of joining cases together and making bets throughout the days, they were competitive _about_ cases. They were running into the Captain’s office and locking the door to make their case on why they, respectively, were the best detective for the job. They were hiding case files from one another in order to get a leg up before the other had a chance. He had been trying to convince her that cases were bad, or sad, or lame and then bragging to her about how cool they were after. 

So when Amy walked into the precinct in the middle of the day to find Jake sitting at his desk, wiping the remnants of tears off of his face, she just _knew_ it was a front. But she wasn’t going to fall for it. 

“What case is it?” She asked, gesturing to his face. 

He shook his head. “No, Ames. You don’t-”

“Is it the new one? Roberts? The murder? Oh my god, it must be a good one-”

“Amy, no, Ames, stop-”

She was running toward Holt’s office. She knew Jake was already on the case, but if he was trying _that_ hard to keep her away from it, then it must be _really_ good. 

“ _Amy, please-_ ”

“I want on the Roberts case with Jake,” she announced as she stepped into the room. 

Holt blinked up at her, a blank expression on his face. “Excuse me?” 

She hesitated. “Uh, sorry, sir. I just closed the Nielsen case today. The paperwork is sitting on my desk. I want on the Roberts case with Jake, if I could.” 

Holt narrowed his eyes and looked between the two of them. Jake had his arms crossed, clenching his jaw tightly. He must be _pissed_ that she might get in on this, too. 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Holt asked after inspecting the two of them. 

Amy replied without missing a beat. “Of course, sir! It’ll be easier for us to solve this case together. We’ve worked a lot of cases together the past few weeks and I think we’ve proven that we can be professional.” 

“But-” Jake began, but Amy interrupted him again. 

“I would be a great addition to this case, sir.” 

Holt nodded gravely. “Fine. You’re expected at the crime scene. Please keep me updated.”

When they left the room, she expected Jake to smile along with her as she did a little happy dance. Instead, she watched as he clenched his jaw tighter and walked past her wordlessly. 

She had never seen him quite _that_ mad over her joining a case. One time, way before they were together, they’d gotten into an argument and she’d convinced Holt to let her in on his case and he had been pretty irritated, but he still laughed along with her when she made jokes. 

The entire trip toward the crime scene, Jake was nearly silent. His fists were clenched around the steering wheel, knuckles white from his tight grip. She’d tried to make a few jokes, but he just ignored them all. Finally, Amy clicked off the radio. 

“Listen, this is stupid. Is this all because you met someone?” He flashed a glance at her that was full of both irritation and confusion, but then looked back at the road without saying anything. 

“You know, we can work a case together while you’re dating someone, Jake.”

“You shouldn’t have tried to get in on this case. It was my case and-”

“So what? Do you know how many of my cases you’ve pushed yourself onto? Who cares? It’s a murder. We’ve worked countless murders together. It doesn’t have to be different because you met-”

His voice was tense as he responded. “ _Fuck,_ Amy, it’s not about meeting someone. It’s a baby.”

She tilted her head in his direction. “What?” 

He sighed, closing his eyes a beat longer than a blink. “The victim. In the Roberts case. It’s a baby.”

She sank back in her seat. “Oh.” 

“Yeah. You shouldn’t have gotten on this case. If you would have just _listened_ to me.” 

She didn’t say anything. He had actually been crying. They were about to walk onto a crime scene where a _baby_ had been murdered. A _baby_. And she _asked_ to be able to do this. She hadn’t been assigned. 

“Listen, if this is how the bet’s gonna go, we should just call it off. We should be able to talk.” 

“No-” She responded so quickly. This bet was the only thing that had brought a little bit of normalcy back to her life. With Jake dating, things were just going to get more and more irregular for her, so she _needed_ that. “No. We shouldn’t call it off. But we’ll have to listen.”

“A code word,” he finally announced. “We need a code word so we know when we’re being real.” 

She nodded. “But you can’t ask for the code word. When you’re being serious, you say the code word, right? Because if we ask every time something happens, that ruins the whole point of the bet.” 

“Yeah. Code word is cabin.” 

Images immediately flooded her brain. The cabin he took her to for their first wedding anniversary. Secluded, in the middle of the woods. A short walk took them to the shore of a lake, where he’d gone and set up a picnic while she had been taking a shower. Three days, just the two of them.

Why would he choose that word? 

She didn’t have long to dwell on that before he was pulling up at the scene, caution tape already wrapping the entrance. As soon as the car was in park, he shut off the engine, but he returned his hands to the wheel, keeping his grip and looking forward. She watched from the corner of his eye as his jaw clenched and unclenched. 

“Listen, uh… If you wanna just stay in the car…” He trailed off, then finally turned to look at her. His eyes were gentle as he took her in, but she could see the sadness that, of course, was present. “You don’t have to come in.” 

She nodded. Then she reached across the car and softly pulled his hand off of the wheel. He watched as she pulled his hand into her lap and intertwined her fingers with his. “You’re not going in there alone, Jake.” 

He looked at her for a moment, then they smiled sadly at one another. He took a deep breath. “Okay, you ready?” 

She laughed humorlessly. “No. But I don’t think I ever will be.” 

“Yeah, me neither.” 

They made their way inside, to a crime scene more gruesome than either of them had ever seen. The air was heavy, a sadness on the mind of everyone who stepped into the room. Murder was horrendous always. In some ways, it got a little easier. The more you’re exposed to it, the less it affects you. You become desensitized. 

With an adult, things aren’t so black and white. People do bad things. The murders they’ve investigated, more often than not, have been for victims that lived shady lives. People who had done bad things. Of course, everyone does bad things, sometimes. You never really _rationalize._ Murder is never lawful, never acceptable. But you become desensitized. Especially when it’s someone who you know was bad. 

You never get used to it with a child. 

They had both worked cases with children before. They are hands down the worst cases to work. Nobody wants them. With adults, your brain can try to make sense of the situation. The world isn’t truly a terrible place. People have reasons for the things that they do. Granted, they’re often misguided reasons for terrible actions, but they’re reasons just the same. Someone stole something from them. The victim threatened the perp. Hell, sometimes the victim was an entire criminal themselves. 

But a _child_ … 

They were defenseless. Nothing they could do would warrant, even in the most extreme cases, the things that Jake and Amy had seen in crime scenes where children were victims. 

They had to be professional. That meant no crying. That meant a steady voice, a comforting presence for those who had loved the victim. They’d had training on this, taken seminars on how to handle these particular situations. But no amount of logged hours of training could ever prepare them for the scene that they would see in each of these different scenarios. 

Typically, in these situations, Jake would break before Amy. She had been so dedicated in those seminars, taking detailed notes and running through them before they were in these situations. This time, less than fifteen minutes into the investigation, Amy was in the corner of the room, sobbing quietly to herself. 

“Hey, Ames,” he’d said comfortingly, placing his hand on her shoulder. She tipped into his side for a moment, taking a deep breath and trying to ground herself. 

“I’m okay.” 

And back to the investigation they went. 

In this case, it was a single parent at fault. There were no family members present to be professional in front of. There was a room full of evidence, a tiny, tiny body bag, and a scene full of emotional uniformed officers. 

As they were heading to the car to leave the scene, another officer was speaking to a colleague. 

“You know, my son is only a month older…” He shook his head, wiping at his eyes with the heels of his palms. “How could you do it? To a little thing like that?” 

That was it. That was the last thing Amy needed to hear. She was taking off down the street, practically running away from the car. Her vision was blurred, all but completely obstructed as she put some distance between herself and the atrocities she had just seen. 

“Ames, please, babe-” He yelled after her, running to catch up. She finally slowed, and as soon as he reached her, he pulled her into his arms. 

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, using a hand to stroke the back of her hair. Before she could even say anything, he was talking her through her tears. “Shhhhhh, shhhh, I know. I know.” 

“It isn’t fair,” she managed out between sobs. “ _They_ got a baby. And this is what they do. But we-” She lost her words in another broken sob. 

She heard his breath fall shakily against her ear as he tipped his head against hers, leaning closer to her. “I know.” 

“It’s not fair.” 

He pressed a kiss against her forehead. His tears streaked through her hair as he nodded against her. “You’re right. It’s not.”

They held each other, the dim light from the street lights filtering onto them, while the other officers watched from outside the house. 

A while later they were in the car, driving back. Jake was on the phone with Holt. His voice was exhausted, she recognized. He sounded so tired. 

“Yeah, we got everything at the scene. It seems like it’s going to be a pretty open and shut case. They’re waiting on a specific lawyer, so we’ll be able to interrogate tomorrow.” 

There was silence in the car as Holt spoke to Jake. 

“Yeah… We can head back if you need us, but if not, I was just going to take Amy home.” 

Another beat of silence. 

“Thanks, Cap.” 

He turned to assess her as he set his phone down in the cup holder. She leaned against her seat, silently staring out the window, still breathing shakily. He began to speak, but then hesitated. He wanted to tell her that everything would be alright. He wanted to hold her, to reassure her, but he _wasn’t_ sure that everything would be fine. In fact, things felt less fine every time he thought those words, so he decided against it completely. He was silent the rest of the way to her apartment. 

_Their_ apartment. It was still their apartment. 

He pulled into the parking lot, shutting off the car wordlessly. He turned to her, but she didn’t move. Finally, he got out of the car and made his way to her side, opening the door and waiting. She looked at him, eyebrows drawn together, and as she looked at him, her dry eyes filled with tears once again. 

“Come on. Let’s go inside.”

She nodded and unbuckled her seatbelt, accepting his hands on her waist to help guide her toward the door. Their door. 

They went inside quietly and he guided her to the bedroom. _Their_ bedroom. 

“You wanna get changed?” He asked. 

She nodded. He removed his hands from her waist and made his way back toward the bedroom door. 

“Wait-” she called after him. He turned to look at her, leaning on the door frame as he did. “Will you stay tonight?” 

“Of course.” He stepped back into the room and went to his dresser, where he pulled out his own set of clothes that he had left there to change into. For a moment, he thought it was silly that they were going to get changed in different rooms, when they had seen each other so many times, but he wanted to be respectful and give her the space that she needed, so he made his way out into the bathroom and changed there. 

When he returned to the bedroom, she was standing next to the bed, facing the door. She frowned, that sort of soft frown that sometimes fell upon her lips when she was trying her hardest not to let the expression show. Her lip quivered, and he was pulling her against his chest again. 

“Will your girlfriend be okay with this?” She asked, muffled against his chest.

He stifled a laugh before responding. “I wouldn’t call her my girlfriend, exactly. And I think, given the circumstances, she won’t mind.” 

Amy shook her head and moved a little bit, but he didn’t loosen his grip on her to let her get away. “But shouldn’t you be with her? To make you feel better? To distract you?” 

He shook his head back. “I don’t need a distraction. I need someone who understands. And who understands everything I’m going through better than you?” 

She didn’t say anything, but they both knew the answer. The answer was no one. Nobody knew the struggle of their separation better than they did. Nobody knew about the disappointment and the pain associated with their journey to try and become parents. Nobody else had carried all of that on their shoulders while they walked into the hell that they had just lived together. 

“Come on,” he repeated. He pulled her down onto the bed-

- _their_ bed-

-and situated the blankets around them. 

For the first time in months, he felt almost whole. He buried his face in her hair, taking in the familiar scent that he had been left longing for every night. He closed his eyes, trying to commit the feeling of her arms wrapped around his waist as she nestled her head into his chest to his memory. He gripped her closer to his body. She could never be close enough. He could never hold her tight enough to keep her, he knew. 

Exhaustion from the worst day he had seen in a while gripped him. That was saying something, since many of his days, days and nights spent away from her, constituted as the worst he had seen. In his exhaustion, comfortably holding her close to him the way he had missed doing, the words slipped out. 

“I love you.” 

His words hung heavily in the room. She tensed against him, he felt it, but she didn’t make an effort to move. He would always love her. She had to know that. He felt really dumb for saying it out loud, now. Did that count as awkward? Did any of this even apply to the bet? Should he say cabin?

“I love you, too.” 

Hesitantly, he pressed another kiss against her head. He stroked his fingers through her hair until her breathing slowed and he could tell she was dreaming against his chest. Then, for a while after that, he continued to play with her hair. He just wanted to hold her, to keep as much of these moments for himself as he could. 

Because he knew, as the darkness faded out of the room in the morning, it would fade right back into him. 

This was borrowed time. 

But borrowed time was better than no time at all. 

Borrowed time, platonic _I love yous_ , and stolen kisses, even when placed against her forehead. 

He would take it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this chapter was a little easier on you than the last one was. Not sure you'll love what's coming? 
> 
> It'll be okay though!!!


	8. you make me feel like i'm intoxicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from Intoxicated by The Cab. 
> 
> _Your eyes like a shot of whiskey,_  
>  _Warms me up like a summer night._  
>  _Can you tell that I need you with me?_  
>  _Let me drink you down tonight._
> 
> _No, I don't just want any pretty face,_  
>  _Wanna wake up next to yours each day._  
>  _Baby, won't you be my saving grace tonight? Tonight._
> 
> _With you, we could be the only ones here._  
>  _'Cause I think you're from another world,_  
>  _And I, I couldn't love another girl._  
>  _'Cause you, you make me feel like I'm intoxicated._
> 
> _Feel like I'm blackout, pass out every time that we touch._  
>  _And if it hurts in the morning then it must be love._  
>  _I want your heart, baby, straight, no chaser._  
>  _I wanna feel it in my head when I wake up._
> 
> Note that the rating has gone from mature to explicit. Do with that information what you will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready to finally gain some insight into the woman that Amy has coined as "Jake's girlfriend?"
> 
> I'm sensing some mixed reviews on this chapter already, so we'll see. ¨̮ 
> 
> But this has been the plan from the verrrrry beginning.

He left in the morning. They didn’t talk about it. What was there to talk about? 

Nothing. 

_Everything._

He wanted to talk about everything. 

When she stirred against him, he was already awake. He had been dreading the moment that she opened her eyes, blinked awareness in and sent him away. It didn’t go quite that simply. She reached over and shut off her alarm, then raised her head and looked at him, his eyes already trained on her. Then, without a word, she laid her head back against his chest. He smiled to himself and tightened his grip around her shoulders. 

It felt like old times. Like late nights spent in bed together, like crossword puzzles in the glow of the lamp next to the bed. It felt like waking up the morning before a long road trip, sights set on her brother’s house on Christmas morning. It felt like _five more minutes_ , like when she would try to pull him out of bed, but he would pull her back in with him. It felt like her laugh when he’d try to kiss her. _Let me brush my teeth, Jake._ It felt like everything he’d ever wanted. 

“We should get up,” she said. Way too soon. 

He let his arms fall away from her after a beat too long, and she stood, getting out of bed. She didn’t try to pull him out of bed with her. He didn’t pull her back in. There were no soft laughs or morning kisses. She walked to her dresser and began pulling out her clothes. He watched her from his place, leaned on the pillows. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” she began, turning to look at him. She tilted her head to the side as she stared at him, and god, he wanted to smile. But he didn’t. “What are you…?”

He finally pushed himself out of bed. “Yeah, I’ll, uh… I’ll go.” He began collecting his things, the clothes he’d changed out of the night before, a new outfit for the day. He’d shower at the precinct. 

He could feel his change in demeanor. He was rushing to get his things, shying away from the feeling of her eyes on his back. He was almost through the door when he heard her voice. 

“Jake.” 

He stopped in the threshold of the door. He closed his eyes for a moment before turning to face her. 

“Thank you. For staying.” 

He nodded. The sad smile that he knew so well returned to his face. Then he waved quickly before making his way out the door, out of their apartment, and into the parking lot. He left the car for her, choosing instead to walk the few blocks to the precinct. He could use the air. 

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in a window that he passed by. His furrowed brow made him look almost entirely unapproachable. He should’ve said something to her. Anything. But in the moment, all he could think to say was _everything_. 

She thanked him for staying. _Any time_ , he wanted to say. _I never want to leave._

_I love you, and I love this life we built for ourselves, and even if everything in the world goes wrong, having you by my side would make it all okay. Come get back in bed. Let’s stay home, we’ll worry about everything else tomorrow. Let me hold you._

But he could just see her already. _Jake…_

He shook the thought out of his head. Everything wasn’t an option. He couldn’t do this. Not right now. He rubbed at the empty space on his ring finger, looked down at the little tanline there. Maybe he was wrong about all of this. He wasn’t sure. He hoped he wasn’t. Last night made things… _blurry_. 

\--

He groaned quietly as the hot water pelted him in the back. The water pressure at the precinct was always too high. It stung as it hit him, like thousands of tiny bullets. Instead of piercing his skin, they rolled off, leaving him ultimately feeling warm and satisfied. Well, as satisfied as he could feel, given everything that was happening to him lately. 

After he was showered and dressed, he sat at a table in the break room. He pulled out his notecards, now torn on the edges from frequent use, and began to go through them. 

“Jake? You’re here pretty early.” Charles walked in, sitting down across from him. 

Jake nodded, then looked back to the notecards. “I didn’t sleep very well, so I figured I’d come here.” Not technically a lie. “Better than being in that apartment.” 

“Hey. You know you’re always welcome back at my place. Even if you just want to stay every now and then.”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, buddy.” 

“Any time.” 

Jake grimaced at those words, the words that had been echoing around his head all morning. Should he have said them? She knew, even without him saying it. Right? 

“What’s wrong, come across a hard one?” 

Jake shrugged. “Yeah. It’s the Boston Massacre, man. I always forget what year it happened.” 

“Here, why don’t you let me quiz you?” 

Jake shrugged dejectedly and pushed the cards across the table to Charles. 

“Okay. Who was the British king during the American Revolution?” 

“George. King George the… third?” 

Charles nodded. “Great job! In what year did the Revolutionary War end?” 

Jake leaned forward in his chair, burying his head in his palms. “Uhhh… seventeen… eighty………. one?” 

“There you go! See, Jake, you’ve got this! What did the Intolerable Acts do to-”

“ _Charles!_ ” Jake yelled. He smacked the stack of cards out of Charles’s hands and scooped them into his lap. “I don’t want to see anymore pictures of Nikolaj right now!”

Charles looked at him, startled, but then understood when he saw Amy walking into the break room. 

“Well, Jake, I’m sorry but you wouldn’t stop talking about seeing your girlfriend last night, I had to share some of my life, too!” 

Charles turned and winked at Jake, out of Amy’s line of sight, before storming out of the room and huffing a _Good morning, Amy._

Jake closed his eyes. Amy knew, obviously, that he wasn’t with a girl last night because he was with _her_. He really needed to talk to Charles about cooling it. He was taking it all way further than Jake was comfortable with.

Amy looked at him suspiciously. “What’s he talking about?” 

Jake shook his head. “You know, nothing. I told him I stayed with someone last night because he was catching on to something being up, with me being here so early. So I told him I was with a girl and I didn’t get a lot of sleep.” 

“You didn’t get a lot of sleep?” He could hear the worry in her voice. He looked up at her a moment, then looked back down silently. She sat down in the seat Charles was previously occupying. “Will you tell me about her?” He tilted his head to the side as he looked at her. “Your girlfriend, I mean.” 

Jake’s jaw tensed. “She’s not my girlfriend.” 

Amy inspected him quietly, then nodded. “Okay. But you met someone. Tell me about her?” 

Jake sighed. “Ames, we don’t have to-”

“I’d like to know about her, if that’s okay.” 

He took another deep breath. “Yeah. It’s okay.” He shrugged his shoulders. “She’s…” He looked up at Amy. At her eyes, big and curious as she waited for him to tell her. “She’s perfect.” He smiled at her and it felt so _easy._ Like he was just telling his good friend about a new relationship. He caught the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She didn’t really look genuine, but she was trying. “She’s smart, and she’s funny. And there’s really no one else’s opinion who I care about more than hers.” His eyes lingered on her lips a few more moments before he reluctantly returned his gaze to her eyes, smile widening. 

Amy smiled softly and began to speak, but Holt entered the room. 

“Peralta, Santiago. Your perp is waiting for you in the interrogation room.” 

\--

He wondered about what she was going to say, but she never said it. The case took a bit longer to work out than they had originally thought. By the end of the week, they were finally wrapping things up. Their perp forewent a trial, instead choosing to just plead guilty to the judge. All that was left was the rest of their paperwork, which they were finishing up across from one another. 

“Hey, what are you doing tonight?” 

Amy looked up from the document she was working on. “Tonight? Oh, nothing. I’m probably just gonna head home.”

Jake cocked an eyebrow. “What about that Trivia Newton John competition?” 

Amy blinked up at him. “Oh, is that today?” She looked down at her desktop calendar and pointed to the day. She groaned quietly. “Ugh. I’ll probably call Kylie and cancel.” 

“What?” Even he could hear that his voice was much higher than he had planned. “No, don’t cancel. You _can’t_ cancel. It’s revolutionary war era trivia!” 

Amy narrowed her eyes. “How do you know that? And why do you even care?” 

“Uhhh… You mentioned it. Like, a while ago. You sounded so excited at the time.” She looked like she was thinking about it. “C’mon, I’ll come with you. We need to get this case off of our mind anyway, right?” 

She sighed. “I don’t know, Jake.” 

“Ames, please. C’mon, I’ll even do trivia! We can make a bet out of it.”

She looked back up from her paperwork. “A bet? What were you thinking?” 

“Winner gets a kiss?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her. She rolled her eyes. “Damn, thought that might get an awkward reaction. I don’t know, no stakes. Just bragging rights. Unless there’s something you want?”

She shook her head. “ _Just_ bragging rights?”

He nodded. “Just bragging rights. Maybe the loser buys the winner a drink.” 

She stared at him for a moment, tilting her head from side to side as she thought about it. “Okay. I’m obviously gonna kick your ass.” 

Jake gasped in mock offense. “How dare you? I’m practically the Revolutionary War section of the dictionary.” 

Amy raised an eyebrow. “The encyclopedia?” 

“The encyclopedia!” He repeated. 

“Also, hey, I was thinking… Is it too late to add new rules to our other bet?” She looked a little hesitant as she said it. 

“What did you have in mind?” 

“Kissing. That should count as an awkward reaction. Kissing, or trying to… That should lose the bet.” 

He frowned. This was obviously directed at him. He thought back to the forehead kisses from a week earlier, to the stakeout where he fell against the wall after she moved away from an attempted kiss. Had he been making her uncomfortable? He joked about it all the time. 

“Yeah. You’re absolutely right.” 

She nodded. “Great.” 

They took the time to finish up the rest of their paperwork, and they made their way to the bar for trivia night. 

It felt so familiar to him. It wasn’t Shaw’s, but it was a bar they had been to a few times. A few date nights, here and there. Mostly just with each other. Jake could turn his head and look over at the booth where they were sitting when he told her he was ready to start trying for kids. He was going to wait until they got home from the date to tell her, but they saw the cutest little family on their way in for dinner. He just couldn’t keep it in. He was so naive, then. 

He smiled at Amy as he walked over with their drinks. “I’m really excited to blow you away with all my Revolutionary War knowledge.” 

Kylie laughed obnoxiously before Amy could respond. “ _Please._ You couldn’t even handle the trivia when it was about _Transformers._ Bet you won’t get a single question right.”

He stared at Amy, keeping her eye contact as Kylie spoke. Amy mouthed _I’m sorry_ to him. 

“Twenty bucks,” he directed his attention toward Kylie. “I’ll bet you twenty bucks I do.” 

Kylie shrugged. “Fine.” 

“Alright, everybody. We’re just about ready to get started here. You know the drill, but if you’re new around here, raise your hand and shout if you know the correct answer. First up gets first answer, and if you get it wrong, another team can steal. Our topic tonight is Revolutionary War.” 

The announcer, an older man, began pulling through some question cards. Jake looked nervously toward Amy, who was watching the announcer with a smile on her face, pausing the expression long enough to take a sip of her drink. 

“And our first question: How many colonies fought in the Revolutionary War?” 

Jake immediately shot his hand up in the air, shouting an indiscernible sound out. Amy glanced at him, surprised because though she also knew the answer, she hadn’t even had time to react. 

“Yes, Trivia Newton John?” 

“Thirteen,” Jake answered coolly, smiling at Amy, then smirking in Kylie’s direction. She looked shocked. 

From there, things quickly became _very_ competitive between Jake and Amy. Trivia Newton John was practically the only team answering questions. They didn’t confer with Kylie at all, and she watched quietly from the corner of the booth, almost afraid to interrupt their quiet arguing (otherwise referred to as _loud_ flirting) between questions. Each of them would raise their hands up and whichever one had their hand up first would answer the question as soon as they were called on. 

“1776!” Jake shouted. 

“Oh, Alexander Hamilton!” Amy stuck her tongue out at him. 

“George Washington!”

“That one was _easy_ ,” she complained at him. 

“Hey, uh… Maybe you two shouldn’t have anything else to drink,” Kylie commented quietly. 

Amy scoffed. “We’re not drunk, Kyles. We’re just trying to win this for the team.” 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what this looks like.” 

“For the _team_ ,” Jake repeated, shaking his head at Kylie.

“Who was the Frenchman that famously fought alongside the colonists?” 

Jake thrust his hand into the air so quickly that he didn’t even realize that Amy hadn’t raised her hand. He looked at her after he’d been called on, only to find that she was looking at him in surprise. She didn’t know the answer. 

He hesitated, but sounded sure of himself. “Lafayette.”

“Another point for Trivia Newton John! You all might just want to go home at this point, they’re clearly taking home this win.” 

Amy raised her eyebrows at him. “God, I’m so attracted to you right now.” 

He raised his eyebrows back. “You sure you’re not drinking too much?” 

She kept his eye contact. “I’m sure. Kylie, who’s in the lead?” 

“I can’t believe I’m saying this… But Jake.” 

“By how much?” Amy was still looking intensely at him, and he couldn’t look away. 

“Seven questions.” 

She threw her hands in the air. “How are you doing this?! I’ve never heard you talk about the revolutionary war!” 

He smiled, then tipped his head down and rubbed his neck uncomfortably. “I may have been practicing.” 

“Practicing?” Amy tilted her head at him, then let her jaw drop as she began to understand. “The note cards!?” 

He looked down at his lap and shrugged. He could feel his cheeks getting warmer, and he hoped that she couldn’t tell. This all felt kind of silly, now. 

There was a beat of silence at the table, then he could hear Amy moving around across from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kylie stand and silently walk away from the table. 

“...Jake.” 

He tried not to flinch. She sounded exactly the same as he’d heard it in his head a week earlier. _Jake, you can’t do that. Jake, I’m sorry._ He hesitated a moment longer, trying to compose himself before looking up at her. 

He was surprised when he finally did look at her. The expression on her face was genuine, but searching. “I don’t understand.” 

He shrugged and tried to avoid her eyes. “Just… thought it would be nice.” He finally met her eyes. “I know you’ve been stressed. I thought if we did this, just had fun together… I don’t know. I thought maybe it would help.” 

She quickly looked down at the table, then lifted her head back up. He watched closely as she tucked her loose strands of hair behind both ears simultaneously. When she looked back at him, she was smiling. 

She slid around the edge of the rounded booth, closer to him, until he could feel the warmth of her thigh touching his. His mind was all over the place. _What’s happening? How many drinks has she had? Is Kylie watching?_ He leaned away from her without moving his position on the booth, then pointedly toyed with an empty beer bottle. She followed his movements with her eyes. 

“Jake, I’m not…” She placed her hand on his to steady the bottle, stopping the clinking sound that he was making with it on the table. Once the bottle was steady, she left her hand on his, still gripped onto the bottle. He swallowed thickly as their eyes met. They were so close. It felt so _tense_. 

She turned then, so that she was facing him more fully. Her leg was bent, resting partially on his own. There was enough time between her movements that he could have stopped her, could have done something differently… But then her hand was on his chest. It trailed up slowly until she was gently pulling on the collar of his shirt, pulling him closer, leaning in and-

“Ames, wait…” At his words, she moved back the few short inches of distance that she had covered. She looked at him expectantly, still toying with the collar of his shirt. Her fingers brushing against his collarbone left him distracted. “The- what about the bet?” 

She tilted her head in confusion, then laughed softly. Her hand moved tentatively to his jaw, where her thumb rubbed shyly. He didn’t even attempt to hide the way he leaned into her touch. Finally, she released his other hand, moving her hand up to curve around the back of his neck. He didn’t stop her when she leaned in again. Instead, he met her halfway. 

He knocked over the bottle he had been holding in his haste to hold her instead. It clattered against the table noisily, but it went almost completely unnoticed by the two of them. He was running his hand up her back, tangling his fingers in her hair, melting into the moment he had been dreaming about. He barely heard the soft sound that escaped her lips as they broke apart. 

“Jeez, no wonder Trivia Newton John has missed the last few questions. Is that a new relationship, or is that a new relationship? Get a room, guys.” The host was laughing as he spoke, but Amy’s expression fell immediately. She turned to look at him, horrified. At first, Jake thought it was because they’d forgotten where they were, had kissed in front of all those people. But then she turned back to look at him, horror ever-present, and pulled away. 

“I… I have to go.” She quickly pushed herself out of the booth and was standing. 

“Amy, hey, wait,” Jake called after her, but she was already practically running out the door. He glared toward the host before running after Amy. 

“Ames!” He yelled out when he got outside. She turned to look at him, already some fifteen feet away near the side of the building. He ran over to her. “Hey, stop. What’s going on?” 

She shook her head. “I shouldn’t have kissed you. I shouldn’t have-” She shook her head again, rubbing her palm on her forehead and dragging her fingers back to knot into her hair. “You have a girlfriend and I-” She took a deep, labored breath. “This is what I wanted. Then as soon as you do it, as soon as you’re moving on… I kiss you.” 

Her eyebrows drew together as his laughter bubbled out of him. At first, it was soft and quiet, but it moved into a sort of roaring laughter. When he composed himself and looked at her, she was confused and, he thought, a little mad. 

“I keep telling you, she’s not my girlfriend.” 

Amy scoffed. “C’mon, Jake. You have to know that the specific label of your relationship with her doesn’t matter. You _met_ somebody.” 

“But Ames, it _does_ matter-”

“How could it matter? You met her and then I-”

“Because she’s my _wife_.” 

He watched closely as she went through all the phases of her confusion. The head tilt, the eyebrows, the blinking. “What?” 

He smiled nervously. “It’s stupid. I just thought… I don’t know, things felt so _normal_ between us. At work, at least. And at Shaw’s. And I got to thinking about us and how we fell in love in the first place.” He shrugged. “I thought maybe I could recreate the situation. The bets, the jokes, you were flirting back… So I took off my ring. I thought maybe if we started fresh, with a clean slate…” 

She shook her head in disbelief. “You were moving on… with _me_?” 

He smiled and shrugged again. 

“Jake, no. You were supposed to find someone else. A different person.” 

He chuckled quietly and leaned against the wall. “You don’t think we’re both different people after all of this?” 

She leaned next to him in silence for a few minutes, then turned to face him, still leaning against the wall on her shoulder. “What about Charles? All that stuff about you ‘not staying with another girl’?” 

Jake groaned. “You know Charles. I mentioned that I was going to try to start over with us because I didn’t want him to freak out when I came in without my ring. He thought it would be helpful if you were jealous. I told him you wouldn’t _get_ jealous, but it didn’t stop him from doing all of that.” 

He turned so he was facing her, leaning on his shoulder. She shook her head. “So you were doing what I asked while explicitly doing the opposite of what I asked?” 

He shrugged with the shoulder that wasn’t against the wall. “I told you it would always be you, Ames.” 

They were smiling at each other, almost nervously, avoiding eye contact. This time it was Jake who hesitantly pulled her closer. She leaned in easily, wrapping her arms around his neck. He moved his hand to her face and stroked his fingers along her cheek as he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers. 

“Amy, I-”

She cut him off by pressing her lips back against his and deepening the kiss. Before long he was entirely consumed by the moment. He had her pressed against the wall, lifting her against him. It was all happening so fast, and _god_ he wanted to slow down, to hold her, to tell her how much he loved her. 

But she tasted like spearmint. Spearmint gum and strawberry lip balm. A sort of signature flavor, a flavor he missed tasting on his tongue. Something else--a hint of nicotine. She was sneaking cigarettes again. She hadn’t anticipated this happening, didn’t think she’d be giving away her secrets by method of fingers tangling in his curls, tongue quickly falling into a rhythm that no matter how hard their minds had tried to forget, their bodies never could. 

It tasted like the first time. In the back of a restaurant, working a case. The room around them loud and bustling, but all Jake could hear was the sound of his heart beating, louder and louder as he pulled her in. A kiss that was clumsy, unsure. His hands quickly found the curve of her lower back, hers hesitantly gripping the back of his neck. But he wasn’t kissing _Amy_. He was Johnny. Kissing _Dora_. It was quick, professional. 

It tasted like the next kiss, a little more confident. She’d pushed him back against a tree, hands pulling his face closer to her own. Still artificial, of course, but already less hesitant, less afraid. 

It tasted like the evidence room. It tasted like change. Like desire, something familiar in a world that was crumbling around them. They were standing so close, way closer than normal. Alone. He knew what he wanted to do the second he stepped into the room, but he wasn’t going to do it. _”So, a lot of change around here, huh?”_ That’s what changed it all. There _was_ a lot of change. His eyes darted to her lips and he tried to look away, but he found himself pulling her toward him again. Softer, slower. Different from before. No undercover identities to hide behind. He was Jake, kissing Amy. And there was no one else he wanted to be, nothing else he wanted to do.

It tasted like summer time. Like a day in the park, watching people as they walked by. She’d tip her head onto his shoulder to whisper about a passerby and he’d catch her in a kiss, slow and sure, after years of practicing that same move. They’d perfected it. 

It tasted like weekends at home. Like her head snuggled into his chest, the smell of her shampoo overwhelming his senses. Like fingertips that danced lazily across her waist, tracing there just for the sake of touching her skin. It tasted like the popcorn fight that she always started, like the way he would delay her from sweeping the popcorn off the floor by pulling her back onto the couch and kissing her. She’d be completely distracted by it until she’d move to grasp his hair and instead emerge with a handful of popcorn that had been sitting on the couch cushion. 

It tasted like _I love you._ Like hushed promises whispered during desperate moments, during calm times. It tasted like the way she said his name. 

Spearmint gum and strawberry lip balm. Nicotine optional. It tasted like his dreams. 

His dreams, that were rudely interrupted by a car horn blaring behind them. He lowered Amy carefully to the ground and looked into her eyes for a moment, both of them breathing heavily, before turning to look at the offender. 

“Jake and Amy?” A man in a black car leaned toward his open window. 

Jake narrowed his eyes at the man. “Yeah?” 

“Garrett. I’m your ride.” 

Amy turned to Jake. “When did you call a car?” 

Jake shrugged. “I didn’t.”

Garrett looked annoyed. “Your friend called. Kylie. Gave me your address and everything. I’m with Lyft.”

After verifying with Kylie that she _had_ called a car, they got in the back seat. He had been laughing at her as she called Kylie. She wouldn’t be Amy if she just got in the back of a car with a man who read their address aloud on his phone, showed her the open map on the Lyft app, and mentioned Kylie by name without concrete _proof._

That was one of the many things he loved about her. The time for these declarations, all the words he’d been longing to say to her, probably wasn’t in the back of Grumpy Garrett’s car, so he kept quiet. He looped his arm over her shoulders so that she was leaned into his side and she rubbed her hand absentmindedly on his thigh the whole way home. That’s all he had the mind to focus on for the rest of the ride. 

After Garrett explained that _Kylie already paid_ and they all waved their goodbyes, he was taking off down the street. Jake turned toward their door, feeling nervousness that paralleled their first date. It was so silly, he knew. Hundreds of times, he had walked through these doors with her. Hell, he had walked up these steps with her less than a full week ago, but he knew it was different now. 

He turned back toward her, preparing to say _something_ to break the silence, but by the time he looked at her, she was staring at him in that way that she used to. She was biting her bottom lip to stifle the smile that was forming, looking up at him underneath her eyelashes. He didn’t attempt to hide his hesitant smile. After a soft laugh, he managed out a quiet, “What?” 

She was kissing him again before they made it to the stairs. 

\--

In 1994, Amy was approximately twelve years old. It’s weird, the things a person remembers from their childhood. One thing that always stuck with her was learning about the man who had been stranded in the desert for nine days. A policeman, she recalled, who joined a marathon and had been swept into a sandstorm. Once the storm subsided, he resumed running--in the wrong direction. Almost a week in, he finally found an oasis. This is the image that really stuck with her. 

What does it feel like to taste water again, when you’ve been dehydrated for so long? When you see water for the first time, and you’re emotional because you’ve wanted this for such a long time and you didn’t know if you’d ever have it again? When the first sip hits your lips and _god_ , you just want _more_ , but you have to pace yourself because you’ve gone without for too long and too much at once could be unfortunate, to say the least. 

She had always wondered. 

She hoped that she would never truly know, but the situation she was in now gave her a sort of idea. 

Jake’s lips on hers left her gasping for air in the best way. This separation was different from all of the other times they’d been apart for extended periods of time because this time, she genuinely thought she would never have this again. She never thought she’d feel him gripping onto her hip, pulling her closer as he pushed her against the wall. He leaned his other arm against the wall, his hand tangling into her hair from above so it felt like she was entirely surrounded by him. She never thought she’d feel the warmth of his hand splaying out across her ribs as he slid underneath her shirt, tugged her bra so that her straps would fall down her shoulders. 

She never thought she’d be touching him exactly like this again. Her hand made its way to his face, where she found that spot with a little stubble where he _always_ missed when he was shaving. She smiled against his lips. Even if everything else had changed, at least that was still the same. Her other hand delved lower, dragging soft, desperate sounds from between his lips when he couldn’t contain them. 

The trail of their clothes, discarded in their race to have more of each other, led to the bedroom. He held her, scattering gentle kisses all across her skin, drawing a map with his lips to all his favorite landmarks. He took his time, visiting places he hadn’t seen in far too long. She tipped his head up to look at her and he reluctantly complied, lust in his eyes as he licked his lips and waited for her to make the next move. They held each other’s eye contact as she lowered her hips to meet him. 

She gasped sharply at the contact, his breathy sigh following before he ran his hands along her sides and up the middle of her back softly. “You okay?” 

Already working into a gentle rhythm, her words all but escaped her. The sound she made resembled _mhmm_ , and whether he got the actual word out of it or not, she was sure he got the sentiment. She had been craving him, the way he gripped onto her in just the right way to give them more friction. She wanted him, _needed_ him. She loved him. She loved the way he-

“Jake, _fuck_ ,” she gasped as he bit the sensitive spot at the base of her neck. His laugh rumbled against her throat in response before he traced his tongue soothingly along the mark. 

He knew her so well. The slightest lapse in her movements and he could tell the burning in her thighs was getting to her. He adjusted so he could lean her back into the bed. He cradled her face with his hand as he kissed her again, a kiss like they had all the time in the world. He was gentle, but strong. She could still taste a hint of the flavor from his beer on his tongue as he kissed her, slow and sure. 

His hand was just as sure, just as gentle as it snaked between her legs. He found his own rhythm there, faster than the tantalizingly slow movements his hips were providing her with. She knew exactly what he was doing. Teasing her, building up her desire so that he could fulfill her every need enthusiastically. She turned her head to give him better access to that spot on her neck, which he appreciatively focused his mouth on until she was writhing underneath him, begging for more. 

He gave in quickly. It had been so long since they had been together and she knew exactly what to say (or rather, how to say it) to bring him to the edge with her. Before long, they were lying together in the blankets, trying to steady their breathing while littering kisses across one another.

They stayed that way for a while, tangled up in the sheets and in each other. He laced his fingers between hers and pulled her hand to his face, adjusting so he could press kisses into her palm and up her wrist. She hummed quietly, coming back to awareness from where she had been drifting to sleep tucked into his side. 

He laughed quietly. “You’re so cute that it’s actually annoying.” 

She angled her face so that she could visibly roll her eyes at him. “You’re so annoying that’s cute.” 

He laughed again. “I’ll take it, I guess.” He chuckled softly before pressing a kiss into her hair. “I love you.” 

He could hear the laughter in her voice as she whispered back. “I love you, too.” 

A few minutes later, Jake was groaning as Amy pushed herself off of the bed and stood up. He pouted as she looked at him, but she raised her eyebrows suggestively. “Shower?” 

He pushed off of the bed quickly, taking the lead on the way. “I call standing under the water first!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep in mind that however you felt about this-- the angst is not over. 
> 
> Just a heads up. 
> 
> But I don't think it's quite as heavy as before. 
> 
> ¨̮ 
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	9. unimaginable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from It's Quiet Uptown from Hamilton. It's fine I'm only heartbroken. 
> 
> _You would smile, and that would be enough._  
>  _I don’t pretend to know_  
>  _The challenges we’re facing._  
>  _I know there’s no replacing what we’ve lost,_  
>  _And you need time._
> 
> _But I’m not afraid._  
>  _I know who I married._  
>  _Just let me stay here by your side._  
>  _That would be enough._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This title has me emo. As does this story, it's fine. 
> 
> Hoping this one is a little more upbeat for you. I enjoy writing Rosa in this story, where I really struggled writing her in how you got into me, so that's interesting. 
> 
> ANYWAYS, enjoy. 
> 
> I don't think this one will make you cry riss, but we'll see I guess. ¨̮ 
> 
> Also wbk I didn't edit this I've been editing minimally lately bc who has time for that??? Not me lol okay enjoy for real ¨̮

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was the sun, practically blinding her, as the light streamed through the window. She clamped her eyes back shut and rolled over, right into his side. She fit there so perfectly. For a moment, she snuggled closer, breathing him in. He wrapped his arm back around her, tightening around her waist, but didn’t open his eyes. 

She contemplated going back to sleep, but the birds chirping outside the window left her unable to drift off. A few minutes later, she dragged herself away from Jake, pulling the sheet with her to wrap around herself. He groaned quietly and reached for her, but quickly pulled the blanket up to snuggle into when he found that she was out of reach. 

She made her way to the window, then turned to look at him. His face was half buried in the comforter, but he looked so peaceful. She missed seeing him in the morning. He was facing the light now, but it didn’t seem to bother him. She smiled as her eyes slowly followed the trail of freckles along his back. She knew the path so well she could see them with her eyes closed, but it was nice to be able to actually see them again. _More than nice._

This was all so stupid. She had been so stupid. Why would she ever think that being away from Jake would be _good_? It would have saved them both a lot of time and trouble if she would have started going to therapy, started her antidepressants _before_ deciding to separate. He was absolutely right. They were together. What else could matter? 

She turned to look out the window, leaning against the window sill as she did. The morning light reflected off of the windows across the street. That’s what pulled her attention to that spot, originally. Two Daughters Diner. A place they’d had breakfast dozens of times. Jake even had a t-shirt from the time he pretended to work there as a ruse to meet with Holt. Even while all of this had been going on, the name of the diner across the street had never bothered her. Honestly, she had never even thought twice about it until this moment. She found her eyebrows pulling together as she looked at the sign. _What else could matter?_

_Two Daughters._

She shook her head. _Stupid._ She moved to turn around, but then something else caught her eye. Waiting at the bus stop, a young family was laughing. A man was tossing the baby a few inches above him and catching him, then bringing him closer to the woman, who was kissing all over his face each time. Even without hearing, Amy could tell that the baby was laughing wildly. His mother and father were laughing along with him, their smiles so wide that they must have hurt. 

Tears were stinging in her eyes again. Why couldn’t she just have this? She already couldn’t have _that_. But here she was, thinking that she and Jake could move on from this together and the universe throws _that_ in front of her. She was stupid enough to let her guard down, to let herself get her hopes up. And she was _wrong_. Yes, they could be together, but _so much else_ mattered. _That_ mattered. And he wouldn’t be able to have that if he had her. That was the whole point of all of this. That was why she had made the decisions that she made. She wasn’t wrong when she made those decisions. And she wasn’t wrong now. 

She turned back to look at Jake, still sleeping so peacefully in _their_ bed. She’d missed having him there. She wanted nothing more than for him to stay there, to stay with her, to make everything feel better. And he _did_. Every time he was around, it was better. It was easier to breathe with him around. He made her forget about all of the other stuff. 

But she _couldn’t_ forget about all the other stuff. It wasn’t fair for her to forget about all of the other stuff. Jake needed her to remember all of that because Jake needed someone to look out for him. He needed _her_ to do it. It was something he had missed out on a lot in his life. Sure, there was always someone in his corner, but he still spent all of his thanksgivings alone, eating _mayonnaise and peanuts_ , from childhood all the way until Amy forced him to come to her first thanksgiving party. He could take care of himself well enough, but he thrived when she was there for him, looking out for him and encouraging him to take care of himself. He was always taking care of someone else, but he often shrugged off his own needs and desires as if they didn’t matter. They _did_ matter. They do. 

And she _knew_ that. She was so focused on that. She got a little bit of alcohol in her system and just like that, she’s in bed with him. She wasn’t even _drunk_. She couldn’t even blame it on that. She wanted this. She wanted _him_. Him wanting her back made it so much harder for her to push off her feelings, even if she did know that it would be better in the end. 

Everything was crumbling around her again. She just wanted to crawl back into bed with him. She wanted to feel his arms around her, to hear his heart beating as she rested her head on his chest. She wanted to hear him whisper _mmmm, I love you_ , quiet and rough, his voice still thick with sleep. 

She needed to call her therapist. She needed to leave. She needed to distance herself from him because _god_ , how was she ever supposed to leave him when she felt like this? When she loved him this much? That’s why she _had_ to leave. But that’s also what made it so hard. 

She was wiping the last visible tear off of her face when he slowly blinked awareness into his eyes. A smile crept onto his face as he looked at her. He lifted up his arm, holding onto the comforter and offering her the space next to him. 

“Mmmm, come back.” 

She must have frowned. He lowered his arm slowly and stared at her, studying her demeanor. “What’s…” He trailed off before stopping completely. His face fell. 

“I… I shouldn’t…” She shook her head, so slightly that he barely saw her do it. “I have an appointment, I have to go.” 

“Oh.” He began to sit up, shifting the blankets so he could stand, but she interrupted him. 

“No, you don’t have to leave. Stay as long as you want.” He remained sitting and watched her quietly as she walked to her dresser, then to her closet, and removed the clothes that she wanted to dress in. She held the sheet tightly, as if letting it fall would bring forth the apocalypse. As if she hadn’t just been wrapped up in that same sheet with her skin touching his. He sighed dejectedly. 

“I’ll, uh… talk to you later?” She finally murmured. 

He nodded, staring at the floor in front of her instead of directly at her. She walked out of his sight without another word, shutting the door behind her. He immediately fell back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. 

He thought everything was fine. _Stupid._ She kissed him, and everything felt fine. Everything felt _better than fine_. His world finally felt like it was back in place, like he could stop holding his breath and waiting for another bad thing to happen. He thought he had her back. He thought this was all over. 

Spearmint. Spearmint gum and strawberry lip balm. A taste that infiltrated every one of his last thoughts. A taste that no matter how hard he tried, would not leave the forefront of his mind. A taste that, though he frequently thought about it, was fading more and more from his memory. A taste that he just got a whole new dose of, a fact that would threaten him in every moment that he faced alone for weeks.

It tasted like the next morning. Like getting your hopes up, only to be dropped from the edge of a cliff that you never saw coming. Like confusion. Like taking the wrong road. You put your destination into your GPS, but every road it redirects you to is under construction. You’re disregarding the directions, turning wherever you’re able until you’re turned around, lost, and alone. 

It tasted like regret. Like a joke gone too far. Should’ve had one less drink, should’ve gone home earlier, shouldn’t have even come at all (title of their sex tape). 

It tasted like understanding. To finally really understand the feeling of needing a cigarette. Jake had never been a smoker, but the taste in his mouth had him ready to chainsmoke an entire pack in one sitting. To relieve the stress? Maybe. To recreate that taste? More likely. 

It tasted like rejection. Like every moment he could think of, every time his heart had been beaten up, stomped on, left for dead. Amy had done so much work repairing all of the tears, bandaging old wounds that he hadn’t even known still scarred the surface, but here he stood now, torn to shreds in her wake. 

Spearmint gum and strawberry lip balm. Nicotine encouraged. It tasted like his nightmares. 

Like nights spent alone, waking up in a cold sweat. A blurry brain, trying to recall where he was. Coral Palms? Prison? Where was Amy? He’s at home? 

_Oh._

The same day on repeat. Wake up, pretend everything’s fine, go to sleep, repeat. 

Fucking spearmint. And strawberry lip balm. 

A flavor he wished he could forget. 

And he thought it was all over. 

He didn’t know where the fuck Amy went, but he assumed _an appointment_ didn’t mean work, so he quickly readied himself for the best distraction he could think of. That’s what his life had become. A game of distractions and chasing something he’d apparently never have. Not really, at least. 

He _did_ feel a little better when he traipsed into the precinct. Whatever case there was would consume his time, give him something else to think about. He knew it would be effective. 

“Oh my god,” Rosa grimaced as he walked into the bullpen. “Peralta, you look like shit. What happened to you?” 

He glared in her general direction. “Thanks, Rosa.” 

He turned back and glanced at Amy’s desk before setting his things down, way rougher than usual, and sinking into his chair. 

Rosa huffed behind him. “C’mon.” 

He turned in his chair to look at her. “What?”

“I said come on. To the break room.” He watched as she stood up, but made no effort to follow. “You made such a big deal out of us sharing our problems with each other because _that’s what friends do_. So do it.”

He rolled his eyes and turned back to his computer screen. “Well, don’t worry Rosa. You don’t have to be my friend or worry about my problems-”

He yelped slightly as his chair was torn backward aggressively. “I _said_ come on,” Rosa repeated, dragging his chair to the break room with her. 

Hitchcock and Scully were at a table there. “ _Out_ ,” Rosa snapped. They both shuffled quickly to pick up all of their belongings and leave the room. She shoved Jake’s chair into the table, jostling him so much that he almost fell out of the chair. 

“Fuck, Rosa, _okay_.” He glared across the table at her as she sat down, an eyebrow raised in amusement. 

“Well?” 

He sighed and rolled his eyes again. “It’s Amy. What else?” 

Rosa narrowed her eyes. “What happened? Things seemed fine yesterday. I saw you two leaving together.” He could feel her eyes on him as he took a deep breath and stared at his hands. “Oh god, last night was that trivia thing, wasn’t it? Did it backfire?” 

His eyes snapped back up to her face again. She looked concerned. “No. She kissed me.” 

Rosa leaned in. “She _kissed_ you?” 

He nodded. “Yup. That’s not all she did. If you know what I mean. Vis a vis boinking.” 

“You had sex?” She leaned back in her chair now. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Problem _is_ I thought everything was fine. I thought we were going to go back to normal. But I woke up this morning and she was being weirder than ever. She basically ran out of the apartment, talking about how she had some appointment.” 

Rosa nodded, but didn’t look surprised. 

“But she _double tucked_ , Rosa. Remember? You said that all those years ago, but I never actually saw her do it. She fucking did it. And now I just feel like I set everything back to the beginning. Maybe I shouldn’t have tried to fix things. Maybe I should have just let her do what she was gonna do. She wanted to separate. Maybe I should have just listened.” 

Rosa shrugged. She got uncomfortable talking about these sorts of things. “I don’t think you’re wrong for trying to fix it, Jake.” She shrugged again and looked away. “I don’t know. I hope to find something like what you two have one day.”

Jake scoffed. “Maybe set your dreams a little higher than that.” 

Rosa was silent for a moment. “I’ll talk to her.” 

He nodded and offered her a small smile. “Thank you, Diaz.” 

She shrugged and pushed his chair away from the table with her foot. “I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it so I don’t have to see you looking _this_ bad anymore.”

He laughed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Is it really that bad?” 

She raised her eyebrows. “ _Yes._ Like worse than the Academy Egg Fiasco of 2001.”

Jake’s expression grew solemn. “We swore to never speak of that day.” 

Rosa sighed at him. “It’s _that_ bad.” 

\--

“And what happened next?” 

Amy sighed. She was having trouble recalling it all out loud. “I don’t know. We were at trivia and he was getting all the questions right and then I found out he had been practicing-” She paused to take a deep breath. “He had been studying the trivia topic so that he could make this bet with me. Just for bragging rights. Just to make me happier.”

“And did it work? What did you do?” 

“I kissed him.” 

Dr. Williams raised her eyebrows and leaned back in her chair. She had been scrawling down notes as Amy spoke, as per usual, but at this confession, she folded her notebook shut. “You kissed him?” 

Amy nodded, almost defiantly. “That’s not all we did.” 

“I see. And how do you feel about all of that?” 

Amy’s sudden burst of defiance faded as quickly as it arrived. She stared down at the floor. “I _thought_ I felt pretty good about all of it.” 

“But then?” 

Images flood her mind: Two Daughters, the family, Jake’s sleepy smile when he first opened his eyes, the way he welcomed her back to bed with him. 

“Maybe it doesn’t really matter what I want.” She hesitantly blinked up at the woman. 

“What _do_ you want?” 

Amy laughed softly. Her mind went back to a memory. Such a simple memory. They were in the parking lot at the grocery store. He was racing past her on the back of the shopping cart when she stopped, scoffing loudly. He immediately hopped off the cart, stopping it in one motion. 

“ _What’s wrong?_ ” 

“ _I forgot to get almond milk._ ” 

Jake raised an eyebrow at her, reaching into a bag and pulling out a gallon of almond milk. He smiled. “ _Vanilla. I got you, babe.”_

She smiled back. “ _Did you get-_ ”

He reached into another bag, pulling out a pack of clear sheet protectors. “ _Standard stationary size. I also grabbed some cascading binder tabs, I know you’re running low. I got the neon pack though. I just think they’re prettier._ ”

He took a few steps backward to kiss her on the cheek before climbing back onto the shopping cart and pushing himself off. 

“Jake. I want Jake.” 

Dr. Williams smiled. “Amy, honestly. I know I’ve said this before, but I think it’s extremely important that you talk to Jake about what you want and what you’re feeling. You have to make these decisions together. Punishing yourself isn’t making anything better for you _or_ Jake.”

She thought about that a lot on her way to work. When she walked into the bullpen, she was hit with a pang of guilt as Jake didn’t even turn his head. Rosa had her eyebrows raised knowingly. She quickly stood up and gestured for Amy to follow her. 

Amy sighed to herself, but followed behind Rosa. She opened the door to the evidence room and waited for Amy to come in and shut the door behind her. Then she punched her in the arm. 

“ _Ow!_ Rosa, what the fuck?” 

Rosa crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “ _Tonta._ ” 

Amy narrowed her eyes, still rubbing the spot on her arm. Rosa didn’t really hit her that hard, but she hadn’t been expecting it. “What did I do?” 

Rosa adjusted her posture and before she even spoke, Amy could tell she was going to do that mocking, high-pitched voice. She batted her eyelashes and twirled her hair around her fingers. “Hi, I’m Amy Santiago. Last night I played trivia with my regionally ranked team, Trivia Newton-John. Then I woke up with Jake Peralta in my bed.” She added a fake laugh for good measure. 

Amy rolled her eyes. “First of all, we’re _nationally_ ranked-” she threw her hands up in innocence when Rosa pulled her arm back to threaten Amy’s arm with another punch. “Okay, okay- not the point, I’m sorry! Yes. I slept with Jake.”

Rosa scoffed. “Yeah, which would’ve been _fine._ You two have needed to bone,” Amy made a face, but she ignored her and continued. “But then you left him. Again.” 

Amy felt her eyebrows pull together. She must have looked pretty pitiful, because Rosa’s expression softened. “Look, Ames. I know you’re going through some really hard stuff. I can’t even imagine. But you know that man is in love with you, right?” 

Amy nodded and began to speak, but Rosa started up again before she had time. 

“He would do anything for you. You can’t let him think there’s still a chance if there isn’t.” 

“I know-”

“And I hope you know that I’m always on your side. Sleuth sisters.” She rolled her eyes, but Amy knew there was love behind the gesture. “But Amy, what do you even want?” 

This time, she didn’t say anything. She was waiting for Rosa to continue, to interrupt her as she tried to answer. After a moment, she accepted that Rosa actually wanted an answer, but she didn’t know _how_ to respond.

“Do you still love him?” 

“Of course I still love him. I’m always going to love him.” 

“Then that’s all that should matter.” 

Amy shook her head. “No, it isn’t. What he wants _other than me_ matters. He can’t have both.” 

Rosa rolled her eyes, as if it was obvious. “ _No._ You both love each other. You both want each other. You’ll figure everything else out _together_.” 

Amy shook her head again, more aggressively. “ _No._ He-”

“ _Yes_. Tell me this: What exactly have you figured out since you’ve separated?”

Amy was quiet. She wasn’t going to say it out loud, but she knew the answer. Nothing. 

“Like I said, I’m always going to be on your side. But right now it seems like the only person who _isn’t_ on your side? Is _you_.” 

Amy frowned. “Damn, Rosa. That was deep.” 

Rosa shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. What, like three months now? And you know Jake won’t shut up about you.” 

Amy frowned and grabbed onto the shelf she was leaning against. “I just never thought I would have to face problems like these. You know?” 

“I know.” Rosa crossed her arms, then quickly uncrossed them. “Listen, It seems like you really need this. But we don’t have to talk about it.” 

She reached forward and pulled Amy into a hug. Amy tensed slightly, scrunching her eyebrows together as she slowly relaxed into the hug. She must have looked _terrible_ if Rosa was willingly _initiating_ a hug with her. 

Rosa pulled back out of the hug, but kept her hands on Amy’s shoulders. “You good?” 

Amy hesitated, but nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.” 

“Okay. You know I’m here if you need me, right?” 

Finally, she smiled. “Thank you, Rosa. I’m lucky to have a friend like you.” She opened the door, looking out into the bullpen at Jake. He was sitting at his desk, talking to Charles. “We both are.” 

Rosa scoffed. “Don’t say that too loud. I have a reputation, you know.” 

Amy watched as Rosa returned to her desk. She and Jake looked at each other for a moment before Jake finally turned to look at Amy. He looked her over, but didn’t smile, then turned his head back to Charles. His expression wasn’t malicious at all, but it made her feel sick, regardless. 

The feeling in her chest intensified as she walked over to her desk, sitting across from him. She waited until Charles walked away to speak. 

“Hey.” 

He looked up as if he was surprised that she was there. “Oh, hey.” 

She wanted to roll her eyes at his effort to be nonchalant, but she resisted the urge. “Can we talk later?” 

A frown flashed across his face for a fraction of a second, but she still caught it. “Yeah, of course. Wanna do dinner?” 

“Can we do it at your apartment?” 

His eyebrows drew together, leaving that little crease there, like he was trying to decode the problem in front of him. “...Sure.” 

“Great. I’ll pick something up on the way and meet you there.” 

He smiled, then looked back at his computer. “Sounds good.” 

\--

He’d walked the path from the precinct to the apartment ( _not_ his apartment. He wouldn’t call this _his_ apartment.) a countless number of times. He’d walked toward the steps, blank, empty, and resembling those of every other apartment in the building. Never had he seen them decorated so perfectly as they were while he walked toward them now. 

Amy sat on the steps, her legs extended down onto the sidewalk, ankles crossed. She played idly with one of the buttons on her shirt. She had changed out of her sergeant’s uniform and was now wearing a pink shirt, a blouse, she’d call it, tucked into the pair of jeans A takeout bag took up the space next to her. Their favorite chinese place. He hadn’t eaten there since he’d left their apartment. She hadn’t seen him yet. She was still looking at the sidewalk in front of her. He stopped a few feet away, before he was in her line of sight, and watched. He never used to watch quite this closely. He had learned to because now he never knew for sure when the next time he’d see her outside of work _was_. He had to take advantage of the moments that he got. 

She smiled warmly as she caught him looking at her. She lifted up the bag of food, an apparent peace offering. “I got extra egg rolls.” 

“How did you get food _and_ get here before me?” 

She shrugged, then pushed herself up so that she was standing on the steps. “I may have slipped out a little early.” 

He gasped. “Amy Santiago left work _early_? Should I call the authorities? Wait- we _are_ the authorities! Should I call myself?” 

Amy laughed. “I just knew there would be a rush if I waited until we got off. I cleared it with Holt first-”

“Of course,” they said in unison, Jake finishing her sentence and obviously trying not to smile at the accuracy at both his word choice and his tone. She opened her mouth and scoffed, but he heard her laugh as he stepped past her to unlock the door. 

“Come on,” he said quietly. “It’s not quite the same as before, but it’s-”

“It’s perfect,” she practically whispered. “A little different than I remember.” She walked over to the counter, then set the bag of food down. She immediately turned to her left and ran her fingers against the wall. She smiled so slightly that it would’ve gone unnoticed by anyone but him. 

“Fruit ninja?” He asked. 

She laughed loudly. “The dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” 

“Okay, _that’s_ debatable.” He laughed along with her, then walked over to touch the spot on the wall that was slightly dented. A few years earlier, he had gotten the idea to play real-life fruit ninja. He was sitting on the kitchen floor eating grapes straight out of the bag- _Jake, you have to wash those,_ Amy had scoffed as she saw him. She walked out of the kitchen. He tossed a grape in the air, aiming for behind him, but it was intercepted by the ceiling fan above his head. 

After wasting at least half of the rest of his grapes, making little sound effects for each violently projectiled one, he decided he needed to move onto new fruit. It was _just_ like the game. It worked with grapes, what else would it work on? 

Turned out the answer was _not_ grapefruit. The large fruit did not slice in half with the blade hit it. Instead, it barrelled into the wall and broke the paddle of the fan. The wooden fan blade clattered onto the floor, narrowly missing his head, but still making him yelp in terror. When Amy ran into the kitchen, she found Jake lying on the kitchen floor looking horrified, squished grapes in various places across the room, a smashed grapefruit, a broken fan, _and_ a dented wall. They replaced the fan, but the wall remained dented.

 _What did you **do**?_ Amy asked in horror as she assessed the dent in the wall. _The **grapefruit** did this?_

Jake shrugged at her as if it had been obvious. _Live action fruit ninja!_

They smiled weakly at one another. He loved having her there, in the space that he had been regretfully calling home for the past few months. He felt like the space immediately brightened at her presence. Maybe _he_ just felt brighter around her. It was easier to recall all of the happy memories with her there. The memories left less on an ache in his chest when she was in front of him, smiling as she talked about them with him. 

“I thought maybe we could put on a movie?” She asked as she was preparing the takeout containers for them to eat. “Maybe Die Hard?” 

He narrowed his eyes. Amy suggesting Die Hard _couldn’t_ be a good sign. She had watched the movie with him countless times, but she had only suggested it a handful of times. Each of those times, Amy broke news to him that left him in a state of disappointment that only she could mend. She thought watching Die Hard would cheer him up, and _of course_ it always did, but it wasn’t even necessary when she was around. She didn’t have to know that, though. 

He hesitated. “No, that’s okay. We can watch something you like.” 

“I like Die Hard,” she offered. He looked at her dubiously, seconds away from saying _c’mon, Ames…_ when she continued. “Okay, I don’t _love_ Die Hard…” 

He continued preparing the food while she made her way over to scour through his (their) DVD collection. If he was going to receive bad news from her tonight, he wasn’t going to let it taint his favorite movie, too. He could picture himself watching the movie, on the brink of tears. _Yippee ki-yay_ morphing in his mind into some mixture of Bruce Willis’ voice and Amy’s, a _Yippee ki- don’t love you anymore._ He shook the thought out of his mind and smiled at her when she turned to show him the cover of whatever comedy she had chosen. 

The first half of the movie, they were mostly silent. They picked through their food, eaten directly out of the containers, with minimal conversation. She made faces at him putting too much food in his mouth, he laughed at her proper use of the chopsticks. He didn’t even realize what he was doing in the moment. It felt like old times. In old times, he would have picked up the first fortune cookie, unwrapping in and holding one side between his thumb and index finger. That’s exactly what he did, extending his arm toward her.

She looked at him, mild surprise on her face. They stared at one another, both unsure of what exactly to do next. He was uncomfortable, arm still extended toward her, but he waited silently for her next move. She set down the takeout box she was holding on the coffee table and shifted on the couch. Her legs were crossed, but now her thigh brushed against his. She linked her arm around his, taking the other end of the cookie in her hands. 

Normally, they would kiss. 

She looked at him, eyes flashing to his lips momentarily. He leaned closer, nudging her face gently to the side and pressing a soft kiss against her cheek. They broke the cookie together. 

They pulled their arms apart, both picking at their haves of the cookie. Jake pulled the fortune out of his side. “Guess that means I get to read it, huh?” He smirked at her. He was possibly known for making up a phrase instead of actually reading the fortune. She rolled her eyes at him. 

He looked down at the fortune cookie and paused. He looked up at her and then put the little slip of paper into his lap. 

“What does it say?” She asked. 

He shrugged. “It’s nothing. Maybe we should just watch the movie.”

“No,” she laughed a little as she reached for the paper, but he quickly grabbed it again, moving it to his side. “Jake, what is it?” 

He sighed. “It says ‘an old love will come back to you.’” 

This was their little ritual. They broke open the fortune cookies together. They only read one slip, because when they had first started dating, Jake had made a huge deal out of it. _I don’t want to know my fortune, I don’t need a cookie._

_Jake, c’mon, it’s just for fun._

He pulled her closer to him on the couch, takeout containers long forgotten. She rested half in his lap and he dotted gentle kisses from her jaw down her neck. He sighed. _Listen, I opened a fortune cookie once and it was **true**. I mean, I don’t believe fortune cookies actually know the future, or whatever…_ He trailed off, feeling self-conscious about his… well, he wouldn’t call it a superstition, but… 

_What happened?_ She shifted in his lap so that she was facing him now. 

He shrugged, obviously growing more uncomfortable with the conversation. _It said someone important would walk out of my life. And then a few weeks later, my dad left._ He shrugged again. _Thought about it every night for years. It probably wasn’t related, but what if it was? I haven’t opened one since._

She smiled sadly at him, resting her palm on his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, eventually placing his hand on hers. When he opened his eyes again, her smile was mischievous. 

_Let’s open it together, then. It’ll be **our** fortune. Then it won’t be so scary._

He eyed her cautiously, but then linked his arm with hers where she offered it. The only sound in the room was the cookie crumbling in their fingers. When they pulled them apart, Amy gasped. _I got the fortune. I guess that means I get to read it._ She smiled devilishly, then looked down at the fortune. She laughed softly and looked back up at him. 

_What does it say?_

She laughed again. _It’s cheesy. It says ‘the love of your life is right in front of your eyes.’_

He pulled her in for a kiss. They laughed about it together, but they didn’t really talk about it. A few years later, she came home from work and Jake was hanging a new picture on the wall in their apartment. It was a picture of them that Charles had taken. They were at Shaw’s, looking at each other and laughing. The day Charles took it, he showed everyone in the squad, yelling _Look at those heart eyes!_

On the bottom corner of the picture was a tiny slip of paper. It was frayed on the edges and worn. It read ‘the love of your life is right in front of your eyes.’

 _You kept that?_ She asked. 

He smiled. _In my wallet. Ever since that day._

She tilted her head to the side as she smiled back at him. _Why?_

He shrugged. _In case fortune cookies really can read the future._

They’d broken their fortune cookies together ever since that day. Most of them were random, silly phrases that didn’t relate to anything in their lives. Every now and then, they’d get a good one. There was one about acing a test a few days before Amy took her sergeant’s exam. Stuff like that. 

“Jake, we really should talk.” 

He nodded. “I know. But can’t we just spend a little more time together, first? I just miss you, Ames. I miss you so bad.” 

She frowned. “I miss you, too. But I think we should maybe get it all out there.”

He nodded and turned toward her, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “Okay. Go ahead.” 

She took a deep breath and started explaining everything that had been happening to her, everything that she had been avoiding telling him for months. Words that she had been keeping to herself from long before they decided to separate. She told him about therapy, about the antidepressants, about how she had been feeling like she wasn’t _her_. She mentioned thinking that this was better for her at first, but realizing how wrong she was once she was feeling like herself again. 

She told him that she loved him, that she wanted him, and that she was sorry. 

Then she went on to tell him why this still might be the best thing for them. 

“I’ve talked to Dr. Williams about this so many times. She always says I should talk to you about all of this. So… I figured I’d try.” 

During one of the more emotional parts of her story, he’d opened his arms to offer her the place against his chest. She gratefully accepted, and he shifted and pulled her against him. He held her the rest of the time she was talking, running his fingers through her hair. They sniffled together quietly as they exchanged words about how they felt in each other’s absence, with the loss of their family heavy on their minds. He leaned his head against hers as they cried quietly together. 

“I just don’t want you to ever think that I don’t love you more than anything in the world. You are the most important thing to me, Jake.” Her following breath was shaky. “But I want you to have everything in the world. And I’m-” She paused to compose herself and take another deep breath. “I’m afraid that you’ll regret it if you miss out on being a parent.” 

He shook his head, though he knew she couldn’t see it from where she was placed, her back leaning against his chest. “I’m _not_ afraid. I know who I married.” 

She turned to look at him, keeping her side against his chest. “But-”

“Hey, no. Look at me, Amy.” He waited for her to look up at him, then he pushed her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I said that I would marry you in a dumpster, and I meant it.” She laughed softly and looked down at her lap, but he tipped her head back up so they were face to face again. “That didn’t end after we said ‘I do,’ you know.” 

“I know, but-”

“No, babe. I’ve listened to you telling me all the reasons why we shouldn’t be together. Can I tell you all the reasons we should?” She nodded, then leaned against his chest. He reflexively ran his hand the side of her arm. 

“You’re the first thing I think about in the morning, Ames. Every day, without fail. Not just this whole time that we’ve been apart. Not just since we got married. Not even just since we started dating. For _years_. Everything is better with you. Work is better, hard days are better, hanging at Shaw’s is better. _Life_ is better. My happiest days are happier when you’re a part of them. I laugh more, I smile more, because of _you._ ” 

“I don’t just want to have kids. I only want to be a parent with _you_. So if you leave, if that’s what you really want to do, do not let that be part of your reason. I would consider myself lucky if I got to live the rest of my life with you by my side. Being your husband and a kickass detective? That would be a full, happy life for me. I don’t _need_ anything extra. Anything else on top of that would just be a bonus.” 

“And I love you, Ames. I love you so much. More than I ever thought I could love another person. More than I love John McClane. You have shown me a whole new world that I never would have been interested in if it hadn’t been for you. You’ve shown me the joy of curling into bed with a book, the excitement that can be found around every corner in a museum. Just… I think alone, we’re great. But together… We’re better together than Holly Gennaro and John McClane, babe. We’re better than Hermione and Ron. And if I could just stay here by your side? That would be enough for me.” 

Slowly, she adjusted her position so she could see his face again. Both of their eyes were glistening. It was a moment that he would have burned into his brain. She looked so gentle, still sort of unsure as she lifted her hand to his face. Her thumb traced over his cheekbone, wiping away a stray tear that she found there. He leaned down and caught her in a kiss, soft and giving and kind and everything he had been wanting to give her. 

They stayed that way, curled up on the couch together, the sound of a completely neglected movie playing in the background as they hesitantly pushed their boundaries. They were still perfect together, of course, but there was so much to relearn. Being together, tipsy and rushed in their lust for one another, was vastly different from the new, sober reality they were facing together. 

He traced her bottom lip with his tongue, clumsily working to remember the perfect pressure of his lips on hers. He traced his fingers along her jawline as he kissed her and when it was over, far too soon, she hid her face in his neck, breathing falling unevenly against his collarbone. 

“I love you, too, Jake.” 

He smiled softly as he kissed her temple. 

“So… What does this mean?” He asked after a few minutes, still holding her against him and tracing shapes into the fabric of her shirt on her back. 

She looked up at him. “Actually, can we talk about the logistics of all of this tomorrow? I’m just kind of exhausted. And if it’s okay with you, I’ve really just missed being with you like this.” 

“Of course,” he whispered into her hair. Even without talking about it, he felt a confidence that he hadn’t felt in months. 

A few hours later, she was crawling into his bed, dressed in one of his favorite old shirts and a pair of his sweatpants. He pulled her into his lap again. 

“I’m sorry, I just want you close,” he whispered against her skin. He pressed soft, chaste kisses all across all of the exposed skin he could reach. From her cheek, to her jaw, to her neck, to the little bit of her shoulder that was visible. He wanted to take advantage of any tiny way to show her that he loved her, that he was happy that she was there. 

He laughed quietly. “Is this even real?” 

She laughed along with him, but didn’t say anything. He was going to shrug it off. Maybe she just didn’t have anything to say. But when he leaned in to kiss her again, she pulled away. Her laugh returned, darker than before. When she spoke, it sounded almost mocking. 

“Is this real?” Her laugh was bordering on hysterical now. “Of course this isn’t real, Jake.” 

He shook his head at her. “What do you…” He was searching her face. The smile on her lips was bright, completely opposite from the words that she had just said. “What do you mean?”

She looked so real and she felt so real and this _had to be real_? He couldn’t have made this all up. The fortune cookie and the movie and that kiss? It couldn’t all be fake. It wasn’t- No. That wasn’t possible. He didn’t remember falling asleep, this couldn’t be a nightmare? Oh my god, was this a nightmare? How do you wake yourself up from a nightmare? Oh my god. Oh my _god_. 

None of it ever happened. 

He would wake up and there would be the same empty space in his bed, the same space that she should be in, and he’d go to work and she’d be there and she’d be distant and he’d be lonely and everything would be broken and why did it all have to be so broken? Why couldn’t she be here and why was she looking at him like that, like she looked at him the day he told her he wanted more, when his voice was shaky and he wasn’t sure but he managed to say “romantic stylez” and she felt the same way but she couldn’t say it and she wouldn’t and she didn’t and now it’s all a nightmare but he would never forget that look in her eyes, never forget anything about her because how could he? 

How could he forget the best thing that had ever happened to him? How could he forget the moments where she walked into his life and took his breath away? Knowing that she could be everything and more to him, that she _was_ everything and more to him. _Is_. How could he forget?

She furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head at him. “What’s wrong, Jake?” She pulled a fortune cookie out from under the blanket, wiggling it at him playfully. “Wanna break it together?” 

He winced a little at her words. Nightmare Amy’s fortune cookie probably didn’t have something good in it. Although, he supposed that the fortune cookie from earlier was nightmare Amy’s doing, too… 

He twisted his arm with hers and crumbled the cookie with her help. She pulled her half away. “Oh look, I got the fortune. Guess I’ll read it.”

She hesitated, just like she had the first time they’d done this. He watched her quietly, awaiting whatever horrible fortune was on the paper. 

“Well… Aren’t you going to ask me what it says?” 

He gulped. “What… What does it say?” 

She leaned forward to show him the paper, then firmly planted her hands on his shoulders and shoved him off the side of the bed. 

He awoke with a gasp, jumping up and clutching at his chest. 

“Jake?” 

He blinked the sleep from his eyes, trying to focus in the dark room on the person that he knew the voice belonged to. 

“Amy?”

She was sitting up next to him now, her arms sliding around his waist as she leaned into him. “What’s wrong?” 

He shifted to reach his arms around her, gripping her thigh lightly with one of his hands. He turned his head and inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of her shampoo grounding him. 

“Is this real?” He whispered into her neck. 

She laughed softly, then pulled away a little. “Hey, Jake?” She placed her hand on his face, rubbing little circles with her thumb. “Of course this is real.” 

He wrapped her into a hug, then pulled her down with him so they were relaxed into the pillows. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He could hear the concern in her voice. 

Now that he was awake, he could clearly recall what was real and what was not. He remembered falling asleep, shortly after the movie was over. She’d showered there, by herself, using her shampoo that he bought when he moved, just in case she ever ended up in that shower. She said she could leave if it would make him more comfortable, but he wanted nothing more than for her to stay with him. 

She’d climbed up the ladder first, marvelling at how similar, yet how different it looked. They talked about a few more of their favorite memories in the apartment. Right before she fell asleep curled into his side, she mumbled sleepily about how she never realized how much she’d missed this place. He fell asleep holding her. 

“Jake?” 

He nodded, smiling as her hair spilled off of the pillow and onto his chest. “Yeah, Ames. Everything’s fine. I’m here with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay that was probably really mean of me and I almost took the dream out but I just couldn't resist lmao. 
> 
> !!! What do you think about this hmm


	10. life is just a ferris wheel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from Fall Out Boy's Lullabye.
> 
> _It doesn't matter what you feel._  
>  _Life is just a ferris wheel._  
>  _It's always up and down, don't make a sound._
> 
> _When you wake up, the world will come around._
> 
> Ahhhhhh, hope you like this!

“I just don’t understand why you guys are keeping his apartment.” 

Amy sighed as she tried to explain, _again_ , why they were keeping it. “Not forever, but just for now. It started out because I didn’t want him to have to shuffle his whole life around again if it ended up not working, but…” She trailed off, shrugging. “I don’t know. I really did miss being there without even noticing. I like spending time there.”

“Then why don’t you get rid of your apartment? It doesn’t make sense to pay for _two_ apartments.” 

Amy stared at Rosa until she finally looked back at her. When she did, Amy simply shrugged. She wasn’t wrong. 

Maybe part of her was still banking on something going wrong. Maybe she was still waiting for Jake to change his mind, to decide that there were more important things to him than making their relationship work. Maybe she was just a little bit afraid because things were going so _well._ It was like nothing ever happened, like they never lost pieces of themselves, lost each other for months. They found their way back to one another, and it was like everything was right in the world again. She could barely remember what it felt like when she was left in their bed alone, staring at the ceiling instead of wrapped up in him, the sound of his heartbeat lulling her to sleep. 

“We’re doing that date tonight,” she finally said. Rosa looked at her, an eyebrow raised. “The one from the bet. The graffiti thing.” 

Rosa laughed. “You’re actually going to do that?” 

Amy shrugged. “We bet on it.” 

Rosa shook her head. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you guys still honor your lame bets so loyally, but I am.” 

Amy turned her head. “Hey. Moreno, five o’ clock.” She gestured. Rosa turned to look, too. “He holding what I think he is?” 

“A bag of blue powder that vaguely resembles the new street drug that the eight-two is investigating? That’s exactly how it seems.” 

“You ready?” 

Rosa flashed a glance at her, smirk across her lips. She lifted her hand up, fist closed. “Sleuth sisters.” 

Amy bumped her fist quickly. “Sleuth sisters.” 

They both burst out of the car quickly. 

“NYPD, hands where I can see them!” 

Moreno turned to look at them, eyes wide before immediately turning and running in the opposite direction. 

It had been a while since Amy had been on a real chase. Sure, she’d gotten in on the action here and there. There was the one good chase on the day that she went to try on wedding dresses with Rosa, for example. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been faced with _good_ chases too frequently since then. 

Maybe that was why. Maybe she was rusty. She was out of practice from having not ran this long of a distance in such an irregular path. Moreno, on the other hand, was running like he was a current cross-country star, running like he was trying to secure his place in the summer olympics as fastest runner to ever run in the entire universe. 

Is running even an olympic sport? If it is, Moreno would definitely have the gold medal. It must not be, then, because instead of having a gold medal, Moreno is running at an inhuman pace with a bag packed with drugs in his arms like he’s cradling a baby. 

Rosa was getting closer to him, each wrong step he took giving her a few centimeters of leeway. Amy, however, was falling behind. Rosa stole a few glances at her. She heard a faint “you okay?”

That was when it really hit her. She was dizzy. Out of nowhere. _So_ dizzy. She was running and Rosa and Moreno were in front of her and things were moving so fast. She looked up at the sky and things just looked so _twisty_. It reminded her of the ice cream cones she used to get as a child, the twisty cones, everything all mixed together in a swirl. 

Then the ground was coming toward her so quickly. Things were still spinning and she held her hands out in front of her, but she could feel the scrape on her palms as she went down. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and took a deep breath, in through her nose, out through her mouth. 

“Santiago!” Rosa yelled from a distance away. 

Amy opened her eyes, but didn’t move her head. “I’m okay!” 

Rosa had Moreno on the ground, cuffing his hands behind his back. She was looking at Amy with concern on her face, but she shook her hand at her and sat up slowly. “I’m okay! I’ll be over there in a minute.” 

Amy sat on the ground, knees tented and leaning forward on them, trying to steady her breathing. What had just happened? Sure, she was out of practice, but she wasn’t _that_ bad. 

“Hey, you o- _don’t move, Moreno_ ,” Rosa paused, glaring at the perp, who had stopped part way through trying to sit up. “You okay, Ames?” 

Amy shrugged Rosa off as she placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m fine.” 

She pushed herself up off of the ground, ignoring the little bits of light that she saw around her as she did. She saw stars every now and then, a side effect of the anemia paired with the never-stop-moving thing she’d grown so accustomed to. She shook off all of the rapid-fire thoughts in her head. She hadn’t eaten enough for breakfast, she’d be sure to grab something when they got back to the precinct.

“Did you mirandize him?” 

“No, but-”

“You have the right to remain silent,” she began as she made her way over to Moreno. She reached down and tugged him up off of the ground by his bicep. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot-” She trailed off, blinking for a moment and swallowing hard. “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you under-” She shook her head. “Do you understand these-”

Amy bent over mid-sentence, choking on her words as she violently threw up at Moreno’s feet. 

“Hey, man!” He yelled, stepping back quickly. 

“Woah, are you okay?” Rosa yelled. She made a movement to walk toward Amy, but she turned quickly, heading for some nearby bushes. Moreno gagged off to the side. 

“Man, my shoes!”

“Shut up, Moreno!” Rosa commanded. She watched as Amy took a few steps away from where she had been bent over, dispelling the rest of the contents of her stomach. She sat on the curb shakily, wiping the corner of her mouth. 

Rosa tucked inside of the car for a moment and returned with a bottle of water. She passed it to Amy, who gratefully rinsed her mouth out before slowly taking a sip. 

“You okay?” 

“Yo, I think I have a peppermint in my pocket if you want it, lady!”

Rosa and Amy both shot unamused glances toward him. Amy leaned back, resting her weight on the palms of her hands. She had already forgotten that she’d scraped them, but they burned as they pressed against the pavement. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing, in through her nose, out through her mouth. _Slowly_. That was the part she always forgot. Slow it all down a little. 

“You have to start his rights over,” Amy replied. “I didn’t finish.” 

She opened her eyes to find Rosa staring at her, but she reluctantly walked back over to Moreno to begin his Miranda rights over again. Amy closed her eyes and returned to thinking about her breathing, trying her hardest to shove the flipping feeling in her stomach out of her thoughts. She had just finally gotten her breathing to steady when something new occurred to her. 

Moreno had been running with the bag of drugs. Cradling it. 

Like a baby. 

Her eyebrows tensed as she thought about it. She began counting out the days in her head, following up with counting the weeks, counting and recounting and _no_ that couldn’t be right, she would have noticed. But she had been switching onto and off of different medications, stopping her cycle of IVF. She’d lost those hormone shots, gained all new hormones when she’d originally gone onto her antidepressants, had an entirely new shift as she had almost entirely weaned herself from them in the recent few weeks. She was just starting to feel normal, but she knew her body wasn’t going to be normal yet. 

But _still_. She would have noticed that she was late. She would have noticed if she was a little late. She _definitely_ would have noticed if she was ten _weeks_ late. 

But she just kept counting and she just kept coming to the same conclusion: that was correct. 

Her period was ten weeks late. 

Her period was ten weeks late, and she _had_ been feeling a little weird lately. But she had been pregnant before. It didn’t feel like that, she just felt _off_. 

But her period was ten weeks late, and here she was, so dizzy that she couldn’t manage to run after a perp and apparently so nauseous that she’d ruined his shoes after her partner caught him. 

But she couldn’t be. 

She _couldn’t_ be. 

The world wasn’t that cruel. Things were going so _well_. She and Jake had been doing _great_. They’d been practically back to normal, almost as if they had never split up in the first place. Stronger than ever, really. 

So no. 

_No._

She couldn’t be. She wasn’t. 

She reverted back to counting the days, recalling when she _knew_ her last period was, doing the math between all of the dates that she’d stopped all of her different medications and injections and _fuck_ , this wasn’t happening, she wasn’t sitting on the curb in a dirty fucking Brooklyn alley realizing that she was pregnant because she threw up on a drug dealer’s shoes. It wasn’t happening. She wasn’t going to accept that. 

“Dude, what’s going on?” Rosa asked, closer than she expected. She hadn’t heard a single word she had said to Moreno, hadn’t heard her shuffle him into the back of the car, hadn’t heard her walk back over. She hadn’t realized that she was practically hyperventilating until she opened her eyes and looked back at Rosa. 

“I need to go to the store.” 

“I’m sorry, you need to go to the store?” Rosa repeated the question slowly, trying to make sense of what she was saying. 

“I, uh… I think…” She took a deep, shaky breath. “I think I might be pregnant.” She mumbled the last word enough that even _she_ couldn’t understand it, and she knew what she was saying. 

“You think you might be what?”

Amy took another deep breath and buried her head in her hands. “ _Pregnant_.” 

“Oh _shit_ ,” Rosa said quietly. 

“Yeah,” Amy agreed, peering up from her hands to gauge Rosa’s expression. She looked concerned. 

“Alright, well hold on,” she said, pulling her phone out and taking a few steps away from Amy. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Calling Charles.” 

“ _Charles_? Why?” 

Rosa made a face at her. “Well, I didn’t think you wanted me to call _Jake_? We need someone to come deal with Moreno so we can go figure this out, right?” 

Amy sighed, but just nodded her head. 

The wait for Charles felt endless. Her stomach kept flipping and twisting in knots, and she couldn’t tell if it was because she was so nervous or because she was just generally nauseous. When he got there, he was immediately assessing everything. 

“What’s going on? Are you okay? Amy are you- is that puke? Did you? Are you? Oh my _god_ ,” his voice went up an octave on his final sentence. 

“Charles, _shut up_ ,” Rosa snapped. “Listen carefully. You’re going to take Moreno in and you’re going to process him. You are _not_ going to mention any of this to Jake. Under _any_ circumstances. Do you understand?” 

“Is she pregnant? Amy, are you pregnant? Does Jake know? Oh my _god_ -”

Rosa shut him up with a palm shoved stiffly to the back of his shoulder. “Did you hear what I just said?” 

Charles rubbed the spot where she hit him, grimacing. “ _Ow_. Yeah, I heard you. I have to get it all out now before I see Jake.” 

“So what are you going to do?” 

“I’m going to take Moreno in and process him, and I’m not going to say anything about this to Jake.” 

“ _Or_ anyone else,” Rosa added. 

“Or anyone else,” he repeated begrudgingly. 

“Thanks, Charles,” Amy mumbled as she walked off toward her car, which he drove there. Rosa switched out keys with him, then slid into the driver’s seat, where she looked over at Amy. 

“Hey, it’s all gonna be fine, you know.” 

Amy nodded. “Mhm.” 

She spent the drive, longer than would’ve been necessary, staring out the window silently. She made Rosa promise to take her to another city so that there was no chance that they’d somehow run into Jake, spilling all her secrets before she was even sure what her secrets _were_. She kept squeezing her eyes shut, hoping that maybe it was all just a bad dream, that she’d wake up in bed with Jake like she had been the past few weeks and everything would be _fine_. 

But no matter how hard she squeezed her eyes shut, she opened them back up and she was still in the passenger seat of her car, head still leaned on the window, still feeling like she was going to be sick again. 

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Rosa asked quietly as they pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store. 

Amy shook her head. “No. Thank you, I’ll be fine.” 

Rosa nodded. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll wait here.” 

Amy nodded solemnly and got out of the car. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself as she walked into the building. 

It took a little bit of searching before she found the aisle she was looking for. She’d never been to this store before and it was set up so _dumb_. Everything was disorganized, there was seemingly no order to any of it. She desperately wanted to stress-organized all 42 aisles that she could see, but she kept her eyes ahead and tucked in and out of aisles until she found what she was looking for. 

A little pink box. _Early results. Find out 6 days sooner!_ She shook her head at the little box as she picked it up. Two tests. She huffed and grabbed two more boxes, different brands. 

She paid, smiling weakly at the cashier who offered a “ _good luck_ ,” and she mumbled a thank you, but she wasn’t even sure what she was _hoping_ for. There was still a part of her that longed for the test to be positive. She wanted a family with Jake, of course, but she wasn’t jaded enough to think that a little plus on this test would mean that she’d get to have that family she dreamed of. 

It just didn’t make any fucking sense. They had tried for so long with _no_ luck. They paid thousands of dollars for IVF treatments, and not a single one of them was successful. Now they’re here, off of IVF, being _so_ careful because they’re _not_ trying anymore, and _now_ she gets pregnant? How was that even _possible?_

She contemplated all of this as she opened all six of the tests in the bathroom stall. She wasn’t sure exactly how to go about this yet, but she knew that she couldn’t wait until she got home. So she uncapped all six of the tests, then took all six of them, two at a time, before recapping them and setting them safely inside the bag. 

She washed her hands slowly, trying her hardest not to count the seconds. She knew exactly how many seconds she had to wait before she checked the results, a benefit of having tried unsuccessfully for months. When you’d taken a hundred tests, you got pretty good at the process. 

She stared at her reflection for a moment, tucking her hair behind her ears and really looking at her face. She looked exactly the same, she decided. No changes whatsoever. 

She couldn’t be pregnant. 

She _couldn’t_ be.

But she couldn’t check, either. She tried her hardest to open up the back and peek inside after the allotted time had passed, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She took a deep breath and tied the bag shut, marching out of the room with it like the strong, adult woman that she was. Then as soon as she made it outside of the building, she ran to the car with shaky legs to beg Rosa to look at the tests for her. 

“Are you sure you want me to do it?” Rosa asked for the third time. 

Amy nodded, _again_. “Please.” 

Rosa took a deep breath and untied the bag, but didn’t open it. “Okay. You ready?” 

Amy closed her eyes, but nodded slowly. She kept her eyes closed, but she could hear the plastic of the bag rustling as Rosa opened it. She heard Rosa suck in a sharp breath, and before she even opened her eyes, she knew the answer. 

“They’re positive.” 

Amy exhaled, long and slow. She turned to look out the window, running her fingers through her hair as she already felt tears pricking in her eyes. She inhaled deeply, trying her hardest to hold in her tears because she was afraid that if she started, she wouldn’t stop. 

It was ultimately a losing game, and within seconds there were silent tears streaming down her cheeks, the beginning of a mess of broken sobs, choking on words that she just _couldn’t_ get out. 

“Why? Why is this happening to me? Why, when we tried _so_ hard and nothing happened, but now we’re being safe and _now_ I get pregnant? We wasted all that money on IVF just for me to get pregnant once I’m off of it and back to using condoms?” She started laughing quietly. “This is ridiculous. Things are finally good again, and now this is going to come in and ruin everything. We’re going to get our hopes up, and we’re going to lose the baby, and we’re going to be right back where we were six months ago. Right back where we were last year. This was all for nothing.” 

“Stop,” Rosa said softly. 

Amy turned to look at her, finding her hesitating on reaching across the car to touch Amy’s shoulder. When Amy looked at her, she pulled her hand back into her lap uncomfortably. Amy shook her head. “I _can’t_ stop. This is my life. This is where I’m at now. Nothing makes sense.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Rosa agreed. “But I know you and I know Jake. And I know that this is hard, and I know that it’s scary. And I know that it feels like you have seen this play out a hundred times, and the outcome is always the same. But this isn’t every other time. This is _this_ time. And it could be different.” 

“Even if it’s different, why now? We’ve talked about all of it. We settled.”

Rosa shrugged. “Why does anything happen when it does? You have options, and you have support, and everything will be okay.” She took a deep breath and looked down at her knees. “I did some research, last time… Just to see what I could do to help. And you know, excessive stress really has an effect on all of this. So I think that what we need to do right now, is figure out what your next step is. You’re always less stressed when you have an organized plan.” 

“You did some research? On what?”

Rosa shrugged again and pulled at a stray string on her jeans. “Everything. Infant and pregnancy loss, success rates, how to help your chances, how to help emotionally in the event that things didn’t work out. Jake and I had a few coffee dates where we shared the things we’d found-”

“You and Jake were researching all of this together?” Amy asked, eyes set on Rosa’s face. She sniffled softly as Rosa nodded and finally met her eyes. “Why?”

“Because we love you, idiot,” Rosa’s eyes glistened like she might cry too, but she just smiled gently. 

Amy took another deep breath. “Yeah, okay. A plan. Where do we start?” 

“Research recommends making a trip to the doctor to confirm what we can. If you want, we can call Jake-”

“No, not yet. Not until I’m sure.” Rosa nodded at Amy. “I’ll call and see if he can get me in today.” She hesitated. “Would you… mind coming with me?” 

\--

“It has to be _perfect_ , Charles. I want everything to be perfect.” He adjusted the lights again. “I don’t know, this just means more than any of the other gestures I could have done. Because of the bet, because of how we got here. This is important, and everything has to be perfect.” 

“Oh, I completely agree,” Charles nodded. He was trying to keep his mind away from the situation he had been faced with that morning. He promised he wouldn’t say anything to Jake, but as he decorated the space in Queens, he was having a lot of trouble keeping the secret in. 

Everything _would_ be perfect, because Amy was (probably) carrying his child. And maybe it was just stupid, hopeless optimism, but Charles had a good feeling about this time around. He couldn’t explain it, but he was basically ready to burst with excitement. 

Charles was wrapped in the strand of lights, and Jake spun him out of them slowly as he tacked them up on the wall. Jake was chattering about all the things he needed to achieve to make sure the date was as perfect as Amy was, and for the first time probably ever, Charles was ignoring every word that came out of his mouth. 

“Charles. Charles? Are you even listening to me?”

“What? Oh, yeah, of course! I heard you. Bottle of champagne, the song from your first dance…” Charles scrunched his eyebrows in thought for a moment. “Of course, you won’t need-” He paused, blinking furiously as he caught his mistake, luckily before he ruined everything. He was _going_ to say that Jake wouldn’t need the bottle of champagne, and he wasn’t sure how he would have walked that one back without just telling him. 

“I won’t need what?”

“Uh… You won’t need… me? To stay here? Because I’m free. And willing, if you need someone to take pictures, or videos, or if you just need someone to watch how adorable you are from a distance? I’m your guy.”

Jake made a face at him. “Uh, that’s okay, but thanks…” Charles complained quietly as he handed the last bit of lights up to Jake on the ladder. They were on the roof of a building, decorating the blank brick of the partial extension that Jake had already gotten all the appropriate permits to paint later. 

Jake made his way down the ladder, wiping his hands on his jeans. 

“Alright. I think… I think everything is perfect.” 

They both looked around at the roof and admired his work. There was a variety of pillows and blankets arranged in one area, specifically designed for optimal star-gazing. _If you can see the stars,_ Charles reminded. _We_ are _in New York, so you might not be able to see them. At which point, your blanket fort would be great for optimal love-making-_

_C’mon, Charles!_

There was a cooler in the corner of the space that was complete with a variety of snacks and various alcohols. He was planning on having food ordered to the building later, so the snacks were just for while they were hanging out before and after. 

Finally, he had a vast array of different spray paints set up. He had printed images for reference of different things they could paint there. He found a pretty cool image of books stacked up that he thought Amy would really enjoy. There was a kickass Die Hard image he thought he could replicate if he tried really hard. 

The night was going to be _perfect_. 

He didn’t know if Jake was sure of it, but Charles was. 

\--

“Okay, it’s going to be a little cold… Although, you already know the deal.” The doctor smiled down at her as he rubbed the gel on her abdomen. Amy gasped softly at the cold, something she had never quite gotten used to. 

She stared up at the ceiling, holding her breath as Dr. Anderson let the little wand explore her flat belly. She was gritting her teeth, feeling like she was practically made of stone as she tensed more and more each second. 

Rosa reached over and squeezed her hand, pulling her out of her focus on the ceiling. She looked at Rosa, who just returned her glance and nodded. Amy squeezed her hand back and closed her eyes for a moment. 

“Okay,” Dr. Anderson said quietly. “Here they are.” 

When Amy opened her eyes, Rosa was looking at the screen, eyebrows drawn in focus. She inhaled slowly and turned her attention to the screen. 

Amy had never been particularly good at reading sonograms. They just looked like blobs until they were bigger. 

“By the looks of it, you’re measuring around ten weeks,” he confirmed her calculations from earlier. He leaned closer to the screen and pointed. “Here’s one. Here’s two.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?” 

The doctor raised his eyebrows. “I said, ‘here _they_ are,’” he repeated, pointing between them again.

“I thought you meant _they_ as in a pronoun for someone who was not a he or a she, not _they_ as in a someone that is more than one someone,” she was talking so quickly, staring at the tiny blobs in equal parts horror and curiosity. “There’s _two_?” 

The doctor nodded. “There’s two.” 

Amy took a deep breath. “Okay… So if my body couldn’t handle one baby, how the _fuck_ is it going to handle two?” The doctor raised his eyebrows again. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For saying fuck.” 

He laughed, and Rosa’s surprised glance flickered between Amy and the doctor. “It’s okay. You might not be surprised at how many times we hear that word when people find out that they’re having twins.” 

“Twins,” Amy said softly. There was no way she was going to be able to carry _twins_ to term. 

The doctor sighed and tapped a button to capture the image on the screen. “It’s not going to be easy, I’d bet. But at the moment, there’s nothing to worry about. Both of them appear to be where they should be in development at this stage.” The doctor nodded. “Everything looks good, Amelia.” He looked between Rosa and Amy, then settled on directing his next sentence to Rosa. “Make sure Jake gets that part. That everything looks good. I know Amy here is prone to worrying. Where is he, by the way?” 

“He, uhm… doesn’t know, yet. We were on a case and I got dizzy and then… here we are.”

“Well,” the doctor said softly. “For now, congratulations are in order. I want to monitor you closely so that we can ensure that we’re doing everything we can for you and the babies. Fraternal, by the way.” 

Amy nodded. He passed her the warm towel to wipe the gel off of her skin, then flicked the lights on. “Okay. Well, I’ll go off to get your paperwork. But try to be _excited_ , Amelia. This is exciting news.” 

She nodded again, but she didn’t _feel_ excited. Rosa probably sensed that, because she hadn’t let go of her hand and she gave it another gentle squeeze. 

“Twins,” Rosa said quietly when the doctor left the room. 

Amy scoffed. “Twins. There’s no way they’re going to make it to term.”

“Not with that attitude, they won’t.” Amy rolled her eyes and tugged her hand out of Rosa’s. “No,” Rosa said, more stern. “You and Jake are the two strongest people I know. And these babies are going to be _just_ as strong. And _they_ need you to keep it together, right? They need you to be strong for them and work to stay calm so that they have a better chance.” 

Amy nodded. “You’re right.” 

“And I am right here. I’m right here for you no matter what. I have your back, Ames. Always. And I’ll have their backs, too. Which means that sometimes I’m going to have to remind you to get it together.”

“What if I…” She trailed off. She focused her attention back on Rosa. “What if I decide not to try this?” 

Rosa’ expression didn’t change as she returned her attention. “If that’s what you choose, then I will support you 100%. But I don’t think that’s what you want. And I think if you don’t even try just because you’re scared of what _could_ happen, you’re doing a disservice to yourself, to Jake, _and_ to those babies in there.” 

Amy looked down at her belly. _Two_ babies in there. She had _two_ tiny lives growing inside of her. Two tiny lives that appeared to be developing as expected. 

“And I think you should talk to Jake.” 

Amy took a deep breath. She was right. She _should_ talk to Jake. She knew that. But there was a part of her that was so shaken, so afraid of what his response may be. She _knew_ Jake. She knew he would be perfect, no matter what. She knew that he would surprise her with whatever sentiment he expressed. But she was afraid anyway. 

“Whatever support I can offer you,” Rosa reminded, “Jake will offer tenfold. He would do anything for you, Ames.” 

Amy smiled weakly. “I know.” 

“So, are you gonna tell him?” 

Amy took a deep breath, thinking over her options. “Yeah. I am going to tell him.”

“Good. I can help try to hold Charles’ questions off until you decide how to tell Jake.” 

“Won’t be necessary. I’m telling him tonight.” 

\--

His smile spread across his face as she walked off of the staircase. Charles had dropped her off at the building, directing her on how to get up to where Jake was waiting for her. He pestered her the entire drive about what had happened, was she pregnant, were they expecting, _could he start a countdown?_

She finally brushed him off by saying she needed to talk to Jake before she was willing to give Charles any more details. He accepted that easily, agreeing that Jake should have all the details. _I’m so excited, though!_

Jake’s eyes flashed to the bag of takeout in Amy’s hands. His expression fell slightly. “What’s that?” 

“Oh, I, uh… I thought I’d grab some food, I wasn’t sure if you had specific plans for that, so I stopped and got-”

“Chinese,” Jake finished. He laughed softly. “I ordered Chinese, too. It should be on the way.” 

Amy laughed, already feeling more at ease in his presence. “That’s probably why they looked at me so funny when I came in to get a different order. They must have noticed that we both ordered.”

Jake was now bordering hysterical, coming over to take the bags out of her hand and set them on the picnic blanket he’d brought, because he knew that she wouldn’t eat on the stars blanket and then lay down on it after. He pulled her into a hug as soon as he was done, and their laughter faded together as they held each other. 

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too,” she whispered back. 

“And I can’t wait to see you paint this wall,” he gushed, pulling away and gesturing to the empty, open space. “But first- champagne.” 

He made his way over to a cooler and opened it up, pulling out a bottle of her favorite champagne. She watched silently as he uncorked it, smiled at her, and then poured two chutes for them. She had been trying to think of some way to get out of drinking it, but she couldn’t come up with anything that wasn’t alarming. So when he handed her the glass, she accepted, staring at the little bubbles floating to the top. 

“A toast,” he said in his best fancy guy voice, returning his voice to normal as he continued. “To us. And to the future. And to whatever work of art we put on this wall.” 

She smiled as they clinked glasses, then raised the glass to her lips, taking extra care to make sure that none of the liquid actually made it past her lips. Jake smiled at her. He hadn’t been paying close enough attention to notice, and she had never been so grateful for his attention span. 

“Okay, c’mon, let’s get started-”

“Wait!” She yelled, staying firmly planted in place. “Wait, let’s eat first! Yeah, I… I’m _starving_ , Jake. We can paint after-”

“No, no, no, Ames,” he laughed. “I know you’re nervous about it, but it’s _legal_. I got all the permits we needed. Look, I even have them in a folder here.” He took out the folder and walked over to her, thumbing through the papers. “We made this bet, and now we’re gonna graffiti all up on this brick.”

“We _will_ ,” she agreed quickly, glancing at the lights that he’d placed. They were lit already, but it was still bright enough outside that she hadn’t noticed them much before. “But I’m honestly just really hungry. It’s been a busy morning.” 

He eyed her cautiously, but then set the folder down with the paint. “Okay.” 

They walked over in silence and began pulling take-out containers out of the bags. They split an eggroll before he began talking again. “Tell me about it.” 

She nodded her head, chewing her food slowly. She obviously couldn’t tell him everything that had actually happened. She swallowed, then shrugged her shoulders. “We finally caught Moreno. He was a tough chase. We ended up having to call Charles in for back-up because he was so-”

“You had to call Charles?” Jake popped a bite of fried rice into his mouth, and scrunched up his eyebrows in thought as he chewed. “Weird, he didn’t mention that to me.” 

Amy laughed uncomfortably. “Yeah… Maybe he just forgot about it.” 

“If Moreno was _that_ crazy that you and Rosa couldn’t handle him alone, it sounds like it would’ve been pretty memorable… I mean, you and Rosa are both kinda badass… It takes a lot to outdo you.” 

Amy smiled at the compliment, but then tried to backtrack to come up with a reasonable excuse as to why Charles wouldn’t have brought it up. “He was probably just so excited. About this date, you know.” 

Jake nodded. “Yeah, you’re right. Still kind of weird, though. Why didn’t you call me?” 

“Oh… Uh, I just knew you were busy doing this today-”

“Yeah, but you know I’m always here to help, right? I’d be there in a second if you needed me.” 

She smiled again and reached across the blanket to take his hand. “I know.” 

He smiled back, and they continued to pick through their food and talk about various situations in their lives. One of Amy’s brothers had called the night before, they were all fighting again and wanted her to choose sides. She’d reminded them that she can only choose one side, not _seven_ , but that didn’t stop them from each calling her individually to explain their side of the story. The fight was all over who broke Camila’s Santa plate the previous Christmas, because they just put it back in the cabinet broken and everyone blamed Tony but it _wasn’t_ him, and David couldn’t help solve the case because he was _one of the suspects,_ so can you and Jake come over and help us figure this out? Jake’s mom had called and asked if they wanted to grab lunch in the next few weeks. 

“Lots of family time coming up,” Jake commented as he finished off his container of orange chicken. They both looked up as someone knocked on the door. 

“Oh, probably the rest of the food,” Jake mumbled. He pushed himself up off the ground and ran over to the door, taking the bags and shuffling some cash out of his wallet and to the delivery guy. “Thanks,” he’d said cheerily as the guy walked off wordlessly. 

“Jeez,” Jake laughed as he turned back to face her. “Did you see that guy? He was not friendly,” he laughed again and set the new bags of food on a little lawn table he’d brought with him. He reached inside and pulled out a fortune cookie. “It’s tiiiiime,” he sang. 

“Oh, no,” Amy said quickly. She reached into her bag and grabbed a fortune cookie. “Let’s do this one.” 

“I don’t know,” Jake said quietly, inspecting the cookie in his hands. He opened it and looked at it closer. “I have a good feeling about this one.” 

“ _No,_ ” Amy doubled down. “We have to do this one.” 

Jake cocked an eyebrow, but walked back over to the blanket, taking his place beside her. “Why?” 

“Uh, we got this one first. So we should do this one.” Amy nodded as if that was a perfectly reasonable response. 

He shook his head. “No. This one is already open. Let’s just do this one.” 

Amy sighed. “Fine. Let’s do both of them.” 

“O _kay_ ,” he agreed. “Mine first.” 

She sighed exasperatedly, and he turned to look at her with an adoring smile. Her hair was falling in waves around her shoulders, and he reached over and tucked a loose strand behind her ear. “I love you. This is all I want,” he leaned in and gingerly pressed a soft kiss against her neck, right underneath her jaw. “Sitting on a rooftop with my best friend, arguing about which fortune cookie we’ll open first.” 

“I love you,” she replied, and for the first time all day, she could genuinely say that she wasn’t worried. They had each other. And everything would be fine. 

He looped arms with her, waiting for her to take her side of the cookie. He laughed softly as they both tilted their heads in the same direction, bumping noses as they went in for a kiss. He corrected his direction and they shared a quick, chaste kiss. 

They broke the cookie. Jake grimaced as Amy got the slip in her half, and nibbled on his half of the cookie while she read it. 

“Major changes are coming.” 

Jake laughed again. “Well, that’s ominous.” 

Amy laughed in agreement, but she didn’t think it was ominous at all. In fact, she was wondering how these fortune cookies were somehow always so _incredibly_ accurate, while somehow being vague enough that anyone could feel that it may apply to them. 

“Alright, you’re up, Santiago,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as he gestured to her fortune cookie. She smiled down at it while unwrapping it, disposing of the plastic wrap in the take-out bag. They linked arms again, both gripping onto the cookie. This time, she kissed him a bit longer. She used her other hand to trace his jawline, and when he smiled into the kiss, she pulled away enough that she could whisper against his lips. 

“I love you.” 

“I love _you_.” 

They broke the second cookie. 

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Jake whined as Amy got the slip of paper _again_.

She laughed. “Here, you read this one.” 

He smiled proudly and leaned in for another quick kiss before accepting the paper from her hands. He looked down at it, reading it silently to himself before reading it out loud. He laughed, short and breathy, then looked up at her. His eyebrows were pulled together. He laughed again, then looked back down at it. “Really?” 

“What does it say?” She asked softly. 

He laughed and shook his head at her, smiling down at the slip of paper. “It says, “Team Peralta-Santiago.’”

She laughed. “Did you read the back?” 

He wrinkled his eyebrows up more in confusion and twisted the paper around in his hands. “Adding… two players…” He looked up at her, expression softening as realization hit him. “You want to adopt?”

She laughed again and shook her head. “No, Jake.” She took a deep breath. “I’m pregnant-”

“You’re _pregnant_?”

“With twins-”

“With _twins_?” 

She laughed again. “Yes. I found out this morning.” 

He looked down at the paper, then back up at her. He shoved the paper in his hoodie pocket before he pulled her into his arms, interspersing kisses into her hair and on her face. He laughed softly, and she could hear the emotion in her voice, which made her feel much better about her tears that were already threatening to spill over the edge. 

“But what about Moreno?” I thought you were…” He trailed off, a shaky breath falling against her ear. He dragged his fingers through her hair comfortingly. 

“I got sick. We called Charles to take over. Rosa and I went to the store, and then the doctor. Oh-” She pulled out of the hug, then reached over for her purse. She rifled through it and pulled out the little black and white sonogram photo. “Baby one,” she pointed, “and baby two.” 

He gasped breathlessly. “Oh my god,” he whispered. 

“Yeah. Charles just covered for us-”

“Which is why he didn’t bring up Moreno-”

“Because Rosa threatened him if he told you there was a possibility before I had a chance to.” Amy bit her lip and nodded next to him. “I don’t know how. We’ve been so careful-”

He shook his head. “Trivia night.” 

Her jaw dropped. “Oh my _god_. Trivia night! I didn’t even think about that. We-”

“Weren’t careful,” he confirmed. 

“No. We weren’t. And that’s… right on check for when this would have happened. Trivia night.”

“Trivia night,” he repeated. “Twins?” 

She laughed. “Twins.” 

He shook his head and looked around. “Oh my god, the champagne-”

“I didn’t really drink it.” 

“You definitely can’t use this spray paint. It’s probably toxic, that’s out of the question.” 

“Absolutely agree.” 

He turned to look at her. “Twins?” 

She nodded, laughing as he pulled her back into his arms. “How are you feeling?”

She hugged him for a moment, then pulled back away to look at him. “Honestly? _Good._ I was pretty upset this morning, but Rosa talked me through it and now I’m feeling… I don’t know. I guess optimistic.” 

“I love you so much,” he whispered for the third time that night. “And no matter what, it’s you and me.” 

“No matter what,” she confirmed. “I love you.” 

They curled up in the pillows and blankets together, cuddled into each other and marvelling at the two shapeless blobs in the picture. 

Jake smiled and pointed at the first blob. “That one’s going to be little Nakatomi, and that one will be John.” 

“We’re not naming our baby after John McClane,” Amy rolled her eyes adoringly.

“So Nakatomi’s on the table?” 

She laughed. “ _No_ , obviously Nakatomi is not on the table.” 

“But Nakatomi Peralta would sound so _cool_ ,” he gushed. “We could call her Naomi.” 

She laughed and shook her head. “We have lots of time to argue over which Die Hard names we won’t be using.” 

He sighed. “Sucks that I spent all that time getting these permits and now we can’t even paint.” 

Amy shrugged. “You can still paint. I’m far enough away, and the wind isn’t going in this direction.” She shrugged again. “Why not?” 

He smiled wide. “Really?” 

She laid in the blankets and stared up at the clouds moving by as she listened to the sounds of the spray paint. She drifted off to sleep, and when she woke up, there was barely any light. 

“Babe, hey, come look,” he whispered, shaking her softly. She groaned quietly and reached for him, trying to pull him down to lay with her. 

He laughed. “Well, this is a change, huh? Normally I’m trying to drag _you_ back to bed. Come look.” 

She rubbed her eyes and allowed him to slowly pull her up so that she was standing with him. He wrapped her in a quick hug and pressed a kiss against her temple. “God, you’re cute.” 

She laughed and turned to look at the wall. She gasped softly as she looked at what he had made. 

It was a crossword. Tons of little black and white boxes, numbered and arranged, left blank. Above the crossword was one question. 

“Four across,” she read aloud. “What do I want more than anything?” 

She scanned down on the crossword, looking in the dim light for the only filled in answer. 

_This_. 

She turned to him, proudly beaming next to her. “Do you like it? I have a bunch more questions and answers, but it was getting dark and you looked so _cute_ over there, I just wanted to come lay with you.” He shrugged. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. She explored his lips slowly, taking her time and relishing in the feeling of his arms winding around her waist. 

“I love it.” 

That night, they didn’t really get a good view of the stars. But Charles was right about one thing. The blanket fort _did_ have other uses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! Wanted to clear up real quick about the Nakatomi/Naomi thing that this has been a joke I've been holding on to since I first thought of this fic idea, but I have seen people mentioning it on twitter and I just didn't want anybody to feel like I was trying to rip them off lmao. Personally I don't like Naomi as a name and it will not be used in this fic, I just wanted him to make the Nakatomi joke and Naomi was the only way that it could even possibly be a feasible name for Amy to accept. 
> 
> ANYWAYS, I hope you liked this fluff situation after a month-long hiatus. Love you guys. ¨̮ 
> 
> Also I really enjoyed writing Amy and Rosa together in this chapter. ¨̮


	11. like you're in a rush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> !!!
> 
> Chapter title from Andy Grammer's Spaceship, which if you follow me on twitter you know I've decided is THE peraltiago pregnancy song and I may or may not use different lines of this song for future chapters. ¨̮
> 
> _Yeah, your mom threw up three times again,_   
>  _Having a hard time keeping down the vitamins,_   
>  _Goes from laughing, to crying, to smiling,_   
>  _Couple times, real close to being violent, hey oh._
> 
> _We're not really parents, but we kind of are._   
>  _You're gonna call me Dad, shit, that's bizarre._   
>  _Yesterday, a couple kids making out in cars,_   
>  _Now I'm staring at a screen with your beating heart._
> 
> _She been in the lab, cooking you up,_   
>  _Damn, you growing fast, it's like you're in a rush,_   
>  _Not sure if you can hear, that's why I get close,_   
>  _Singin' to her belly just to let you know,_
> 
> _Somebody loves you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quarantine depression is hitting me hard—Depth has gotten a little hard to write for reasons and I guess that's how I ended up here!! 
> 
> This hasn't been updated since October, so I hope you enjoy! Feeling a little nervous about putting this out there for some reason. 
> 
> TW: vomit (re: morning sickness) 
> 
> Also spoilies for Admiral Peralta in that I used a few lines from the episode, but nothing overtly spoiler-y, just a heads up. ¨̮

He hated seeing her like this. 

She was hunched over the toilet, her hair long pulled into a ponytail, so his fidgety hands were all but useless to her. He rubbed comforting circles onto her back, though he was sure they weren’t as comforting to her as he’d like for them to be. This was their routine now. 

They woke up, her head on his chest because she swore she couldn’t fall asleep these days without the sound of his heartbeat thumping against her ear. Some days he missed being the little spoon, but he had no serious qualms over this new arrangement. He asked how she was feeling, she mumbled out a sleepy reply. She shifted off of him, laying against the pillows so he could continue his morning ritual. 

“And how are my little strawberries?” He asked her belly, pushing up her shirt and kissing along the curve that had grown there. He checked his app every night before bed, reading Amy facts about each stage and double checking so that he knew the corresponding size of the babies for each week (they were no longer strawberries. They’d cycled through limes and were now lemon-sized). She made plain toast (to settle her stomach, she said), and sipped on a glass of orange juice, because she wouldn’t allow herself even decaffeinated coffee _just in case_. He had gotten a little better about shutting off his autopilot. He was so used to waking up and immediately starting the coffee machine, but he felt bad drinking coffee in front of her when she was already taking on all the hardest parts of starting their family. She tried to convince him that it was fine, that at least one of them should be fully functional, but he was doing his best to stand in solidarity with her. 

Within twenty minutes of eating the plain toast and taking that dreaded vitamin, she was in exactly the position they were in now. It seemed like no matter what she did, she couldn’t avoid it. She tried every bland food that the internet suggested, but to no avail, she was hunched over the toilet each day. Jake even tried to make her scrambled eggs one day, which, unfortunately, is how they found out that just the smell of eggs cooking _also_ made her sick.

_This isn’t uncommon,_ her doctor had said. Jake gritted his teeth at the way he flippantly added _just the prenatal doing its job!_ He offered no useful recommendations on how to keep food inside of her, how to quell the nausea that was making itself a part of most of Amy’s waking moments. She was sick all the time, and it was taking a toll on her. 

She was taking it like a champ, though. She never complained, even when she more than deserved to. He was in awe of her, now more than ever. He married a strong, capable, independent woman, and he adored his wife. He was grateful to get to be by her side through this. 

She finally leaned back, closing the lid of the toilet and flushing away the evidence of the worst morning sickness she had ever experienced. He opened his arms to her, waiting for her to lean against his chest the way she did each morning. She gratefully accepted her place, accepting with it the glass of water he had ready for her and sighing. 

“Twins.” She said it softly, shaking her head and pausing to take a sip of water. “They’re going to kill me.” 

She closed her eyes when he brushed his cool fingertips against her forehead. He held the cold glass of water a little longer than necessary so that he could always give her this tiny moment of comfort, cold fingers against her warm, flushed skin. She clasped her fingers over his when he moved them to her cheek. 

“Ya’know, I expected them to team up against us when they were older, but I didn’t think they’d start so early.” He mused, images of their future children flashing through his mind. He pictured a little boy helping to boost his sister onto the counter, then the little girl handing cookies down to her brother. The smile faded from his lips as he regarded her against his chest, looking pale and exhausted. “You okay?” 

She shrugged. “The doctor said it’s supposed to stop in the next few weeks. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” 

He settled his arm around her waist, leaning closer to press a kiss onto her forehead. “I love you, Ames. I’m sorry you have to take all of this on.” 

She grinned up at him. “Thanks for being here with me.” 

He laughed quietly. “It only seems fair.” His hand slipped away from her hip, traced the curve of her belly. “I put them there.” 

She shook her head at him, laughing softly. “I need to brush my teeth, but I love you, too.” 

And then they were back to moving through their days. 

They never really thought about how they were going to tell the rest of the squad, because they figured they wouldn’t have a chance to tell them. This secret went where secrets go to die: Charles Boyle. 

Jake and Amy had jokingly bet on how long Boyle could last with keeping their secret. Jake said he couldn’t make it more than two weeks, but Amy set her sights a little higher. With Rosa’s constant threats, he could probably make it to three weeks. 

Much to both of their surprise, it had been a little over three weeks and he hadn’t even had any close calls. He, of course, was excited, but he was extra careful about who was around when he’d bring things up. He’d wait until they were all closed into the elevator together, then he’d gush about what kind of cake they should have at the baby shower. 

The closest he’d come to spilling the secret was when he’d brought Amy some special root tea that he, “swore would help her, since she’s been sick.” 

“Santiago? You’re sick?” Captain Holt had been walking by as Charles made the comment. 

Amy glanced at Charles, then looked at Holt, stammering. “Uh… No, I, it’s… Sir—”

“It’s a case of food poisoning. She went back to that street meat cart, Captain. Remember the one that—”

“Yes, Boyle, I remember. Sergeant Santia—”

“Steer clear of the bathroom, Captain. If you know what’s good for you. She really, just…” Charles looked at Amy. He was clearly floundering, and his voice faltered when he continued. “Blew it up in there.” 

Amy blinked slowly at Charles, pressing her lips into a tight smile as she looked at Holt. _“Yep._ I blew it up, sir.” 

He hesitated. “I’ll do my best to avoid the _women’s_ restroom… Thanks for the tip.” 

Amy turned her glare onto Charles as Holt sauntered into his office. Charles shrugged and Rosa snickered from her desk. 

Jake peered over his desk, looking at the mug of tea that Charles set in front of Amy. “Charles, who would drink this? It has something floating in it.” He stirred at it with the spoon left in the mug, the corners of his lips turning down in disgust. 

“Oh, actually, those are little pieces of beet and cabbage. You steep them in there with the tea, and it adds extra antioxidants. Plus you can skim a crunchy little treat off the—”

“I’m gonna be sick.” Amy excused herself from the group, practically running toward the bathroom. 

“C’mon, Charles.” Jake shook his head, taking the mug and walking it over to the sink. He dumped it in, running water over it to try to rinse the shredded vegetables down the sink. “Ugh, it won’t even go down.” 

“Yeah, for future reference, coleslaw tea probably isn’t the best remedy.” Rosa rolled her eyes at Charles. “I’m gonna go check on her.”

“Thanks, Diaz.” 

—

It eventually became apparent that Boyle just wasn’t going to break. They were already deciding how they were going to tell their families, but now they had to figure out how to tell the rest of the squad, too. 

“Can you believe he hasn’t let it slip yet?” 

They were laying in bed, Jake’s hand absentmindedly rubbing her belly. His head was on her shoulder, already dozing off before she started talking. He hummed softly, his voice a little groggy. “Mmmm, he made it out of the first trimester. We probably owe him dinner or something.” 

She chuckled quietly, and the sound brought a smile to his lips. He turned his head to press a kiss onto her shoulder. “Maybe we wait until after the ‘morning sickness,’” she made air quotes with her fingers _(why do they call it morning sickness if I’m sick all day?)_ and laughed again, “before we have anything to do with Charles and his questionable food choices.” 

Jake shook his head. “I don’t know, Ames. He swears that once the cravings really hit, he’ll be your best friend. I’ll believe it when I see it.” 

She hummed. “So… how do we tell everyone?”

Jake was quiet for a moment. “Well… who’s left to tell? It doesn’t matter how we tell Terry, he’s just going to lose his mind over the fact that it’s twins—”

“I’m hoping he has some good advice,” Amy interrupted quietly. “Maybe we can get together with Sharon sometime.” 

He laced his fingers with hers. “Sounds perfect, babe.” He smiled as she nestled closer to him. “Then there’s Hitchcock and Scully… And you know it doesn’t matter how we tell them. They’ll meet the babies and say they never even knew you were pregnant.”

Amy made a quiet sound, half laughter, half disbelief at their coworkers. “They’ll probably ask who the father is.” Jake scoffed, and she giggled again. “Then there’s Holt.” 

Jake tapped his fingers lightly on her belly. “I know you didn’t really want to make a huge deal out of telling everyone this time.” He trailed off quietly, remembering their pregnancy reveal to their families the first time around. It was a big surprise for everyone, a ton of thought put into it. They all got together, both sides of the family, to carve pumpkins around Halloween. (He’d excitedly exclaimed _I love Halloween_ when he proposed the idea.) Jake had made a huge deal about the _rules_ of pumpkin carving—rules like _you can choose a partner, but nobody else can see your pumpkin until you’re done._ So, naturally, Jake and Amy were partners. Jake carved the due date into his pumpkin. He helped Amy to carve a giant circle into the front of her pumpkin, then they snuck one of those tiny little pumpkins out of his hoodie pocket and into the inside of her pumpkin. They turned to reveal their pumpkins at the same time, Amy’s pumpkin held just above her belly. Karen miraculously got a picture of the moment before everyone understood what was happening, and then it was tears all around. The picture was in a photo album somewhere, but it was one that both of them had trouble looking at. 

He sighed softly. “And I understand why. But I was also thinking that maybe since we didn’t get the chance to tell Holt in a fun way before… Maybe we tell everyone else just normal, but we find a fun way to tell him?” She was quiet for all of two seconds before he began backtracking. “I mean, I completely get it if that makes you uncomfortable, and don’t feel like you can’t say no. I just figured it was worth talking about. You know, he’s such a big part of our lives. He officiated our wedding, he was there for both of us during everything throughout all of this…” He shrugged. “He’s…”

“Our dad?” 

He looked up at her, a gentle smile and an earnest look in his eyes. “I was going to say important. To me. To us. And he will be to these babies, too.” His voice got a little quieter, morphed into more of a mumble. “But yeah, also our dad.” 

They smiled at one another, leaning in to share a quick, chaste kiss. He leaned his forehead on hers. She nodded slowly. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” She could hear the smile in his voice even without being able to see his mouth.

“Yeah. I think you’re right. It would be nice to celebrate. It can’t hurt if we just make a bigger deal out of it all with one person, right?” She pulled away from him to look at his face. He had a giant smile on his face, staring right into her eyes. She laughed. “What?” 

“I just love you so much.” He leaned in, pressed another kiss to her lips. “Thinking about how lucky I am that you walked into my precinct all those years ago.” 

She laughed against his lips. “I know. I could’ve transferred anywhere, and I got stuck with _you_ as a partner.” He pulled back to wrinkle his eyebrows at her. She bit her lip to hide her smile. _“Ugh.”_

He scoffed at her, but he was smiling as he kissed her. “Oh, yeah, _poor you.”_

Her fingers made their way to his hair as he shifted on top of her, deepening the kiss. She broke the kiss, laughing softly, and he shook his head at her, trying to chase away the smile spreading across his lips. 

“Yeah, if I had known then that you’d _still_ be making me puke after all this time? I definitely would’ve transferred again.” 

He gasped. “I _never_ made you puke.” She held up her finger at him, opening her mouth to detail the story that he already knew she was talking about. He shook his head. “That wasn’t me. That was Algernon.” 

“Algernon was only there because of you!” 

“Okay, first of all, I don’t think you can prove that with evidence that would hold up in court.” He paused to kiss her. She welcomed him as his tongue traced her lips, but after a few minutes, she turned to break the kiss. Her laugh was breathless. 

“And second?” 

His head was dipped into her shoulder, already dusting kisses across the exposed skin there, his irregular breath not stopping him from showing his affection. “Hmm?” He leaned his head on her shoulder, looking up at her as he realized what she was talking about. “Oh.” He smiled. “I was just thinking about how if you would have told me when we met that one day we’d be expecting twins together…”

He blinked slowly, and she could tell he was getting emotional. She shifted, and he lifted his head off of her shoulder. She held his face with both hands as she kissed him again, her thumbs tracing his cheeks. 

“I love you, Jake.” 

“I love you.” 

She felt his jaw tense underneath her hand, his narrowed eyes trained on her. When he kissed her again, it was different. A welcome change. He reached over to switch off the lamp on her bedside table a few minutes later. They had time to figure out how they’d tell everyone later. For now, he had things he wanted to tell his wife. Whispered softly against her skin as he held her and reminded her that every inch of her, through every change this pregnancy brought, was beautiful. 

—

She inhaled, a yawn abruptly taking over. Jake stirred against her, his arm tightening around her. She smiled when he breathed against her ear, and she was in the process of scooching closer to his warmth when she opened her eyes and realized that it was _way_ brighter than she’d expected. She craned her neck to see the alarm clock. 

“Oh my god.” Her voice was barely audible. 

“Mmmm, what?” Jake sleepily mumbled next to her. She gently grabbed his wrist, a soft gasp escaping her. He sounded more alert _and_ more alarmed when he spoke again. “What’s wrong, babe?” 

“It’s 11 o’clock.” 

He yawned, snuggled his face against her neck. “Okay?” 

“And I just woke up.” 

He was quiet for a beat. He adjusted, propping himself up on an elbow to look at her. “How do you feel?” 

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Normal, I think.” 

It was Saturday. They slept in on Saturdays, which usually just meant that she was rolling out of bed and running for the bathroom at 8:30. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d slept in until _eleven_. Probably two years ago when she had the flu. 

“Is that how it works? It’s just? Gone one day?” 

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t have morning sickness like this last time.” 

He hummed. “Wanna try breakfast?” 

She was quiet for a moment. He pressed a kiss onto the back of her neck, then trailed three kisses down, following her spine. She pushed closer to him. “Maybe we just stay in bed for a little while longer?”

Jake gasped dramatically. “Amy Santiago wants to stay in bed?”

“Shut up and hold me.” She laughed, but it trailed off into a hum. “You’re so warm.” 

He pulled her closer, his free hand moving to absentmindedly play with her hair as his eyes drifted back shut. “Gladly.” 

They stayed in bed until 12:30. He started his routine then, kissing her belly, talking to their two little avocados. Normally staying in bed that late would stress her out, but growing two humans was _hard_. She finally had a day where she didn’t wake up nauseous, and she didn’t know how long that would last. She was going to take advantage of it with her husband, just this once. 

They ate breakfast _(brunch_ , Jake so teasingly reminded her), and she was fine. She took her prenatal vitamin, and there was _nothing_. She never even felt queasy. She was sure that it was just the calm before the storm. 

So they camped out on the couch, scrolling through documentaries on Netflix. If she was going to become violently ill, she was going to do it in the comfort of her own home, thank you very much. 

They snacked, they threw around ideas for how to tell Holt, they discussed the following day, when they’d be meeting their families for lunch at the Santiago residence. They talked about their feelings regarding sharing the news with their families, they discussed the likelihood that Holt already knew about the secret and just hadn’t brought it up out of respect. When they realized it was getting late, they ordered food in. 

They ate. She caught Jake watching her a few times, but he never prompted her with the question she knew he was dying to ask. _How was she feeling?_ But she was feeling _great._ Great enough that when they finished dinner, she got up and vacuumed the apartment because she felt like she hadn’t done anything productive with the day. Jake cleaned up from their dinner, and then they were both snuggling back up on the couch, flipping through one of the many baby binders. This one had all of the organized information on telling their families. A page for each family member—things to remember, questions that she’s sure will come up, listed in order from the easiest person to talk about it with to the most difficult. 

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and she closed her eyes momentarily when he kissed her temple. “How you feelin’ ’bout tomorrow?” 

She slowly thumbed through the pages, glancing over them thoughtfully as she regarded his question. She made her way to the final two pages. She flipped them so that they could see both pages, a picture in each corner of the people in question. She tapped her fingers gently on the book. 

“Camila Santiago,” she said softly. “Worried about this one.” 

Jake leaned his head against hers, and she nestled closer to him. She had to admit that it was hard to feel anxious about her mother when she had the gentle pressure of his arm around her. “I think all we can do right now is hope that things go better than we planned for.” He pulled back to look at her, and she slowly nodded. He smiled, his hand quickly moving up to rub her cheek. “And if things go the way we expected… Well, that’s why we planned. And we have each other.”

She smiled at him, but then she was looking down at the other page. She tapped her finger on that page as well. 

“Roger Peralta,” he read. “Piece of cake.” He smiled brightly, but she saw right through it. Her raised eyebrows told him as much. He sighed. “I’m not going to get my hopes up. It’s not like he was exactly excited last—” His eyes widened as he abruptly stopped speaking. 

“Last time.” She finished for him. “You can say it, Jake.”

He took her in slowly, his eyes tracing across her features. She smiled, a soft encouragement. His lips tensed in the corner. “I didn’t want to make you upset.” 

She reached for his hands, and he laced his fingers with hers easily. She looked down at his hands, tracing his knuckles with her thumbs. “It’s really sad.” She nodded, and looked up at him. “It makes me really sad that we didn’t get to know them. The first time around, or the second.” She offered him another smile. “But I love them. And I want to be able to talk about them.” She held his eye contact for a moment, and he smiled gently at her. “I think they deserve that.” 

He looked down at their hands, and she recognized the crease in his eyebrow. She shifted to pull him into a hug. He leaned into her, and she laughed softly when he buried his face in her hair and took in a long, deep breath. They stayed that way for a moment, but then Jake pulled out of the hug to look at her. He cupped her cheek with one hand, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. “You’re amazing, you know.” She smiled against his lips as he kissed her. “You’re going to be the best mom.” His hands moved to her belly, and he glanced down at the places his hands were pressed. “Two lucky little avocados in there.” 

“God, you’re a dork.” She gave him a chaste kiss. “And I love you so much. And whatever happens with your dad tomorrow… I’m here.” 

This smile looked more like the one he usually wore. It took him a minute, but his expression turned serious again. “Okay, I waited as long as I could. How are you feeling, Ames?”

She shrugged. “I feel fine. Normal.” 

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Like… _normal_ normal, or like, sick normal?” 

“Normal. No sickness whatsoever. Maybe it’s actually over.” She shrugged again. “Four weeks past the first trimester. The doctor said it wasn’t abnormal to still experience it a few weeks into the second trimester.” 

His smile was even wider now. “You think it’s really over?” 

“I mean, I hope so. I think.” 

The biggest sigh of relief she had ever seen escaped his lips, and she shook her head at him. He shook his head back, unable to contain his smile. He pulled her hand up to his face, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I know it’s obviously way harder for you, but watching you go through that every day and not being able to do anything to make it better…” He trailed off, his smile fading into more of a frown at the memory. 

She offered him a sad smile. _“Jake…”_ She reached up to touch his face, and he leaned into her touch. “You always make it better.” 

He smiled at her like that was a thought that had truly never occurred to him before. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, and then he was back to flipping through the book with her. She couldn’t imagine going through all of this without him. Therapy had been doing wonders for her, but she sometimes had trouble forgiving herself for everything that had happened in the past year. Jake came along to some sessions, and it seemed to help him, too. 

He assured her that he forgave her, that he loved her, that he trusted her. Of course he did. She looked into his eyes now to find the same man that had always loved her. She wished she hadn’t lost sight of him for a period of time, but she was glad that he’d been stronger than her through all of it. If he hadn’t stuck around, who knows where they’d be right now. He was a wonderful husband. Better than she deserved. And he would be the best father this world had ever seen. 

She didn’t feel lucky to have him. She felt grateful. They’d been through some of the lowest moments they’d ever faced this year, but they came out stronger through it. She couldn’t change the past. She couldn’t reach out to a therapist and start antidepressants earlier. She couldn’t erase all of those memories from the time they’d spent apart, even when she really wanted to. 

But she could push forward. She could apologize and remind Jake that she wished she had done things differently. She could accept that she knew herself better now than she did then, and accept that however much she wished things had been different, those moments led them to where they were right now. Where they were now was special. It was important. And no matter what happened this time around, she knew that history wouldn’t repeat itself. 

She loves Jake Peralta. She’s never going to let anything make her lose sight of that again. They deserve better. She does, Jake does, and their babies do. Whether they get the opportunity to meet them, or not. 

She shouldn’t think like that, she knew. She’d made great strides since the day she found out she was pregnant. Each day seemed to bring with it the ability to be a little more positive, a little more hopeful. She realized that she owed it to herself and to her children to enjoy this experience while she could. In the event that this was the only time she’d ever get to spend with her babies, she wanted to have happy moments to remember. She didn’t want to be stuck with the only memories of the two babies that she already loved so much being laced with fear and stress. 

She was still stressed, and she was still afraid, but that wasn’t all she was. She was happy. She was _excited_. She was sure. And Jake was there with her, to hold her hand, to show her a cute baby product he’d stumbled upon _(not_ a cute baby product he was going out of his way to find, he _swears.)_ while she’s doing her nightly crossword, to hold her through what, until now, seemed like endless bouts of morning sickness. 

She looked over at him, humming to himself as he flipped through the pages of a different binder. He glanced up at her, pausing his humming when he found her already looking at him. He smiled. “You okay?” 

She smiled back. “Yeah, Jake. I’m great.” 

His grin widened as he turned his attention back on the book. She let her hand smooth over the curve of her belly, smiling to herself. Things were _great_. And it would be great to finally share this with their families tomorrow, too.

—

Amy took a deep breath, standing in the center of the room, her arm looped with Jake’s. She was sure that they already knew. Why else would they have a gathering with both her entire family _and_ Jake’s parents? Jake’s free hand covered hers on his bicep, squeezing her fingers gently. She smiled up at him. 

“So, I guess you guys probably already guessed that there’s something up, huh?” 

Jake and Amy shared a silent look and another smile. 

“Oh my god,” Julian hissed from across the room. “Stop being cute and just _say it.”_

Amy rolled her eyes at her brother, but her smile didn’t falter. Their family was all gathered around them, two sets of parents and seven brothers, three wives and a husband, six nieces and nephews ranging from two all the way to fourteen. 

She was wearing a loose dress, one that fell over her curves in a way that discreetly veiled the curve in question. She ran her free hand along her belly, drawing everyone’s attention to it. “I’m pregnant.” 

“We’re pregnant!” Jake echoed, squeezing her fingers again. 

The room erupted into cheers, the same way that it had the first time they’d announced a pregnancy to the family. She had been half-expecting quiet, knowing eyes to be staring back at her, but the room was vibrating with nothing but excitement. The three people she knew would be most excited were immediately in front of her—Karen, her brother Benji, and Tony’s oldest daughter, Lexi. What started as Karen hugging Amy and Benji hugging Jake, quickly turned to the rest of the family joining in for a giant, overwhelming group hug. 

Jake’s laughter rose over the sound of the many voices in the room, and everyone slowly backed away to regard him. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his slightly worn copy of their most recent sonogram. He couldn’t quite wipe the smile off of his face as he looked down at the image. He held it toward Amy, face down. “You want to?” 

She shook her head. “Go ahead.” 

He was practically beaming as he turned the image toward everyone. Unlike their first sonogram, this image did not just have two little shapeless blobs. There were two very distinct, vaguely baby shaped blobs. 

Now is when the silence set in. Everyone was looking at the image, adjusting and moving closer so that they could see, too. 

“Wait…” Victor managed out. “Are those…?” 

Amy looked at Jake. She expected to feel very overwhelmed and anxious during this moment, but looking at the smile on his face, feeling his hand on hers again, she just felt safe. She smiled. “Twins.” 

“What!?” Amy shook her head, already laughing at her younger brothers. “Ju, did you hear that?! _Twins.”_ Mateo was smiling as he looked at his own twin. 

Julian looped his arms around Amy’s shoulders. “Santiago curse, sis. Two boys in there, right?” 

“We don’t know yet,” Amy leaned into her brother. The twins had been taller than her since they were sixteen, and Julian rested his chin on the top of her head now. 

“I think there’s a girl in there,” Jake admitted. 

Mateo wrapped both arms around him, squeezing a little too tight. He rested his chin on Jake’s head the same way Julian did to Amy. “Santiagos make boys, Jake. Congrats, bro.” Jake just grinned, all too used to Amy’s brothers treating him like he was the eighth Santiago brother. 

Camila pushed past her sons. “We made one girl.” She pressed her palm to Amy’s cheek, smiling and nodding at her daughter.

“We only needed one daughter, because we got it right the first time,” Victor added, elbowing Eli in the side. “Wish I could say the same for you boys.” 

Tony’s loud laugh interrupted whatever Camila was about to say. “Yeah, right. You got the best boy first, I don’t know why you kept trying. Congrats, Jake and Amy.” 

Luke rolled his eyes. “C’mon. Dad’s right, they stopped when they got the best one.”

Julian propped his elbow up on Luke’s shoulder. “Yeah, they should’ve stopped when they were ahead. They already got two for the price of one with me and Mateo, you were just overkill.” 

Camila moved to make space for Amy’s dad to give Jake and Amy a quick group hug. The sounds of the rest of her brothers fighting faded out of her awareness as David stepped in front of her. “Congrats, Amy.” 

She smiled gently. “Thank you, David.” 

He offered her a similar smile. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but then all of her brother’s wives were crowding around, asking questions about due dates, and the sonogram picture was getting passed around and Jake was trying to keep track of it and Roger was clapping his hand gently on Jake’s back and Amy was trying to hear what he was saying, but she couldn’t make it out over her four year old nephew excitedly yelling at her feet, and Karen wanted to know who their OB was and had they considered using a midwife instead? She read that it was a much more relaxing way to give birth and—

By the time things settled down, Jake looked pretty preoccupied talking to two of her brothers. 

“Amy, can you come in here with me for a moment?” Camila asked, standing in the doorway of her bedroom. 

Amy looked over and quietly excused herself from the table with all of her sister-in-laws. “What’s up, Mom?” 

Her mother waited for her to enter the room, then quietly shut the bedroom door behind her. She made her way over to the bed, then sat down on the edge of it. She patted the spot next to her. Amy quietly obliged, sitting next to her mother. Camila reached over, gently taking Amy’s hand. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.” 

Amy smiled tightly, already prepared with the _I’m doing great, Mom_ , but before she could say it, Camila was talking again. 

“I mean how are you _really_ doing? With all of this?” She trailed off quietly for a moment. “You know, I was pregnant with twins, and I know how difficult that is on its own. But you have an added layer that I don’t have experience with.” The miscarriage. The two miscarriages, but her family only knew about one. “And I love you, and I’m proud of you, and I want you to know that I’m here for you.” She squeezed her hand. “And I know I haven’t always done the best job of showing you that.” 

Amy’s vision was blurring with tears way before she mentioned not always doing the best job at showing her all of these feelings. _Stupid hormones_. Amy laughed to try to dispel some of the tears, but they were rolling down her cheeks before she could stop them. Camila pulled Amy into her arms, rubbing her hand on her back gently. 

She just held her. She didn’t try to tell her that everything was okay, or tell her not to cry, or push her to talk about it. She just held her daughter, her hand stroking her hair. Amy couldn’t remember the last time she had hugged her mom like this, and she definitely didn’t think this moment was something she needed, but she could already feel how her mother’s support was calming her. 

After a moment, Amy relaxed, pulling out of the hug and wiping her face. Camila smiled at her, touching her face gently. Amy laughed softly, sniffling before she returned the smile. 

“It’s scary,” Amy began. Camila nodded. “I’m afraid to let myself get too excited or too attached in case…” She trailed off. “I don’t want to feel like I did last time.” The corner of her lips turned up into a hopeful sort of smile. “But I’m trying. To give myself the freedom to love these moments without thinking too much about the possibility of losing everything.” 

“Oh, Amy…” Her mom smiled sadly. She took her hands again. “Even if things don’t go the way we all hope, there’s still so much to be proud of. You and Jake have built something really special, and even if I wasn’t so sure about him in the beginning, I think you two are really important for each other. And you have me and your father, and your brothers, and work, and your friends. I was a police wife for years, I know how vital your work family is, too.”

Amy leaned her head on her mom’s shoulder. “Thank you, Mom.”

“It’s okay to be excited, and it’s okay to be scared. It’s normal, honey. And we’re your team, no matter the outcome.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love _you._ And I hope Jake’s right and you have a daughter in there. I know I haven’t done everything right, but having a daughter is really special.” Camila wrapped her arm around Amy, rubbing her arm for good measure. “So tell me about it. How’s the pregnancy been so far?” 

So Amy detailed all of the struggles of this pregnancy, the morning sickness and the heartburn, the way that she can only fall asleep in one position no matter how tired she is, how Jake had been fantastic through it all. 

“Are they moving around in there yet?” 

Amy shook her head. “I just hit sixteen weeks. They doctor said it could still be a few more weeks before they start moving—”

“Enjoy the quiet while you can, because once they start moving, they _won’t_ stop.” Camila tilted her head as something occurred to her. “Oh! Let me get something.” 

Amy watched as her mother stood up and walked to her closet. She disappeared inside it for a moment, then reappeared with something in her hands. “Your baby blanket,” she announced as she walked closer, offering it to her. It was a small purple blanket, she remembered it from pictures. She could feel her eyes welling up with tears again _(these hormones will be the death of her)_ , but her attention turned toward the door when it opened. Benji stood in the doorway. 

“It okay if I come in?” 

Camila looked at Amy, and she nodded, laughing softly as she wiped away her tears. Benji shut the door, flopping on the bed next to Amy. “I’m so excited, Ames.” 

A few of her brothers had caught on to calling her Ames once Jake started coming around. She smiled. “Me too.” 

“Alex will be so excited to have two new cousins.” He grabbed Amy’s arm. “I’m so excited to finally have favorite nieces or nephews.”

 _“Benjamin,”_ Camila scolded.

“What, Ma? You have favorites, I can too!”

Amy and Benji both laughed as Camila murmured some exasperated remark at them in Spanish. 

“Alex won’t be the youngest anymore.” Amy mused, a quick daydream of her tiniest, cutest nephew holding her babies.

“I can’t believe you went sixteen weeks without telling me.”

“Oh my god, I wanted to.” Amy gushed. Benji sat up to look at her. “We weren’t telling anyone. We didn’t want to get everybody excited like last time and then have to go back and pick up all the pieces…” She trailed off, and Benji squeezed her arm. She smiled. “But the doctor says everything looks good and both babies are healthy and right on par for growth and development. We’re not completely out of the woods, but…” Her smile stretched across her face, and Benji mirrored her expression. 

“God, I’m so happy for you guys, Amy.”

They all looked up when the door opened again. David peered into the room. He raised his eyebrows when they quieted, then walked in and shut the door. “Hey, guys…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Can I talk to Amy alone for a minute?” 

Amy raised her eyebrows, but nodded to Benji and her mother. She watched as they looked warily at David. Even with David being her mother’s favorite, she knew that David and Amy didn’t have exactly the _best_ relationship. David made his way over to her, then sat on the bed next to her. He was silent for a minute. 

“Is everything okay?” She finally asked. 

David smiled weakly at her. “Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine. I just wanted to check in with you, I guess.”

“Oh. Well, yeah, I’m doing well.” She smiled, doing what she would call a very good job at controlling her facial expression because, putting it mildly, she was extremely confused.

David sighed, rather dramatically, and turned toward her. “Look.” He gestured his hands toward her. “I know… things haven’t been, like, the _best_ between us.” Amy’s laugh escaped her lips before she could stop it, and David glared at her as she covered her mouth. “I’m trying to be nice, Amy. At least let me finish before you laugh.” Though his words were a little passive-aggressive, his tone was soft. She nodded at him. “I guess I just wanted to let you know that I’m here—both me and Anna. You know, Isabel and Isaiah love you more than anything…” 

“I love them, too.” Amy smiled tightly when David looked at her. “I love all of you.” 

David sighed again, looking down at his lap. “I know we’ve always been competitive, and I know I’ve kind of let that come between us. And I know that means I wasn’t there for you through some really hard stuff.” He looked up at her. “And I’m really sorry.” 

Her stupid hormones were _not_ about to make her cry in front of David. She swallowed back the lump in her throat and nodded. “I mean, it wasn’t just you. I let it come between us, too.” 

“Yeah, but I’m the big brother. I should’ve been here for you, just like I should’ve taken better care of you when we were kids, but we have _so many brothers.”_

“So many brothers,” Amy repeated. 

David laughed. “I think when we were younger, I just knew all the other boys had your back. Benji and Tony, especially.” He groaned quietly, like it was killing him to talk about any of this. She wanted to roll her eyes, but she knew if it had been her initiating this conversation with him, she’d be acting the same way. “And then, ya’know… You didn’t need any of us to take care of you. You held your own and you stood up for yourself and you—” He cut off, taking a deep breath. “You were always my biggest competition. You deserved to be. You were accomplishing things way faster than I was, but you’re four years younger than me, so I can still say you’re a step behind me.” He laughed when she glared at him. “And I was always so preoccupied with being the best. But I shouldn’t still be acting like I did when I was seventeen. I should be supporting you.” 

She initiated the hug. “Thank you, David.” She pulled away to look at him, the corner of her lip tugging up into a smile as she teasingly added, “If this is a ploy to get me to say you’re the better sibling, it’s not going to work.” 

David scoffed. “Please. I wouldn’t expect you to say those words if all of our lives depended on it.” They both laughed, and then David looked at her seriously. “But you’ve one-upped me in one way I’ll never be able to measure up to.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?” 

He pointed at her belly. “Twins. Two for one, huh? I bet Mom’s gonna be all over that.” 

Amy laughed, pulling the baby blanket back into her lap. “She immediately gave me my baby blanket. I have no idea why. She didn’t give it to me last time.” 

“She gave you your baby blanket?!” He raised his eyebrows. “How do I have two kids and she wouldn’t give me anything from my baby box? I even asked for something and she said something about _keeping it safe and in the family_ , which I guess was just her roundabout way of saying no, because she never gave it to me.” David crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Maybe _you’re_ Mom’s favorite.” 

Amy laughed. “As if. You’ve always been the golden child.” She stood up, ready to get back out there and check on Jake. She crossed her arms to mirror David. “But I’ll definitely be her favorite when I make captain before you.” 

David sighed exasperatedly, and she almost rolled her eyes at how similar the sigh was to the one her mother offered earlier when Benji was teasing her. “After that nice speech? Damn, Amy. You’re ruthless.” 

She shrugged on her way to the door. “I learned from the best.” 

—

He had just stepped out of the room to get a drink. He’d been talking to his parents since Amy had stepped out of the room with her mother. Her brothers had been cycling out of the bedroom to talk to her, and in all honesty he was starting to feel a bit jittery without her there. It seemed that no matter how many times he’d been at Santiago parties, no matter how comfortable he’d gotten with her family, being around everyone at once overwhelmed him. Pair that with the fact that the only thing his father had said since they shared the news was a stiff _congratulations, Jake_ and the fact that Amy had been locked in a room alone with her mother _and_ David, Benji only momentarily there to calm whatever mess he was sure her two most difficult family members unleashed on her, and his leg just _wouldn’t_ stop bouncing. 

He was worried about her, about what they may be saying. She was stressed enough without Camila sharing stressful bits of information from her pregnancy with twins or David starting an argument, and stress was bad for her. It was bad for the babies. Plus, he was just craving her presence next to him. He wanted her to squeeze his hand gently, to ground him when his father had him spinning out over his lack of response. 

He excused himself quietly. He’d just go get a drink, and everything would be fine. Amy’s family wasn’t, like, bad or anything. Stubborn, argumentative, controlling, and misguided, at times, but he was sure they didn’t drag her into a room to corner her, knowing their history with pregnancy. She was okay, and he was getting himself worked up over nothing. Maybe he could blame his overactive imagination on him trying to distract himself from his father. 

Everyone there seemed _so_ excited. Then there was Roger. He saw the look on his face. Sure, he said congratulations, but he didn’t _look_ excited. And sure, Jake said that he wouldn’t be disappointed. He prepared for this, expected it, but apparently no matter how many times he went through the scenario in his head, it didn’t make it easier when it actually happened. He was disappointed. And he just wanted Amy. 

He walked into the kitchen, a welcome silence from the living room, still buzzing with activity. A little distance between him and his father would probably do him some good, too. He opened the refrigerator, and when he turned around, he was startled to find Roger standing behind him. 

“Oh—my god, _Dad_. What, are you like sneaking up on me? Jeez.” He shook his head, setting the pitcher of water down on the counter. Roger shifted his weight uncomfortably. “What’s up?” 

“Uh…” He leaned against the counter, gesturing toward Jake. “Your mother thought maybe you wanted me to talk to you more. About…” He tilted his head to the side. “The baby—bab _ies_... And fatherhood.” 

“Oh.” Jake rested his hand on the counter. Maybe his Dad _was_ going to offer more than just a weak congratulations. “Did you have something else to say?” 

Roger nodded gently. He took a deep, slow breath. “I’m just worried for you, Jake.” 

Jake’s eyebrows drew together. “You’re worried for me?” 

Roger nodded again, avoiding Jake’s eyes. “You know, being a dad is hard.” 

Jake swallowed back his urge to ask Roger how he knew. He blinked slowly, watching as his father continued to shift his weight and look all around uncomfortable. 

“You know, I was really excited when I found out that your mom was pregnant. But that didn’t stop me from being a screw-up once you were here.” He finally looked up at Jake. “I don’t know if it’s the Peralta curse, or maybe I was just a selfish asshole, or maybe a little bit of both.” 

“The Peralta curse?” 

Roger shrugged. “Peralta men don’t get along with their sons. Before us, there was me and my dad. His father abandoned him, my grandfather’s father left, _he_ shot his father—”

“But, no, stop, there’s no curse.” Jake shook his head. “We’ve been getting along great. It’s not a curse, or we reversed the curse, or...”

“I mean, sure, things are good now…” Roger shook his head, fairly nonchalant as he spoke. “But it’s probably just a blip.” 

“Oh, that’s nice to hear.” 

“I was thinking about what Amy’s brother said. The Santiago curse—which, by the way, was a nickname for an STD that was going around among pilot crews in the early nineties—”

_“Dad—”_

Roger nodded. “The Santiago curse,” he began again, “Santiagos make boys.” 

Jake shook his head. He had nothing to worry about. He and Amy had talked about this. He’d discussed it in therapy. He wasn’t going to be like his dad. He knew he wasn’t going to be like his dad. He’d _never_ leave his children, never leave Amy. But even so, he was taking steps to make sure that he wasn’t going to be like his dad. He had the books, he had done research, he’d talked and talked _and talked_ about his trauma and everything that could maybe one day cause problems for his children if he didn’t address it now, and he was _not_ going to be a part of any stupid Peralta curse. 

“I’m just saying,” Roger continued, “that I thought I was going to be different. But I screwed you up just like my dad screwed me up. And his dad screwed him up, and his dad screwed him up, and—”

“Okay, I got it, Dad.” 

He felt it the exact moment that it happened. The tiny little flame of anxiety within him flared at his father’s words. Because Roger thought he would be different, too. But he wasn’t. And he _just_ said it—Roger screwed him up, too. He shoved the feelings away, back to where he could quietly ignore them, but the flame had been ignited. 

“I’m excited for you, Jake. And I’m sure you’ll be different. But I’m worried. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes that I made. It just seems like it’s what we do.” 

Amy peered into the room. “Jake. Hey, I was wondering where you ran off to.” 

“Ames.” He brightened immediately at her arrival. “I was just getting some water. You want anything?” 

Amy took in the scene in the kitchen, Roger looking tense and uncomfortable across from Jake. Her eyes flickered back to Jake, questioning. 

“I’ll, uh… I’m gonna head back out there.” Roger smiled. “Congrats, Amy.” 

“Thanks, Roger.” She smiled, and he patted her shoulder as he walked past. 

Amy raised an eyebrow as she looked back at Jake. “Is everything okay?” 

He didn’t say anything as he pulled her into his arms. She responded immediately, her arms winding around his waist. He breathed her in, and it didn’t matter what was just happening with his dad. He felt calm because she was there. With her, he could do anything. Roger didn’t know what he was talking about. 

“Jake?” Her voice was muffled by his shoulder, but he could make out his name. 

He pulled away, smiling tightly at her. “Yeah, everything’s fine, Ames. You know, just my dad.” 

She frowned slightly. “You okay?” 

He nodded, laughing softly and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips. “Yeah. He actually said he was excited for us.” 

Amy’s eyebrows drew together, a combination of surprise and, he was sure, confusion at those words paired with the scene she walked into. 

“Well, good, babe. I’m glad.” 

She took his hand and squeezed it gently. He poured them both glasses of water, and she held his hand as she pulled him back into the living room. 

His eyes flickered over to his father every so often the rest of the night. Amy’s hand would make its way to his knee and squeeze gently, or she’d slot her fingers between his, or she’d lean her head on his shoulder, and everything was fine. Amy was going to be the best mom this world had ever seen, and nothing he did could ever screw up Amy Santiago’s children. Their kids would be perfect, just like her. He knew it. He could _feel it._

And he loved them so much. He was going to love them so much. Always. 

Curses aren’t real, Jake. 

_Curses aren’t real._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone commenting on any of my fics at the moment: I'm having a little trouble replying right now but I love you all and I read and appreciate every comment and you're all the best. Thank you!! 
> 
> Sending love and good vibes to everyone. I know I need them lately, and I'm sure I'm not the only one. ¨̮ 
> 
> Stay safe!


	12. just like the father, then like son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title from Neck Deep's In Bloom. 
> 
> _And thinking back upon those days,_  
>  _Way, way back when I was young,_  
>  _I was such a little shit,_  
>  _'Cause I was always on the run._
> 
> _Well, you know just what they say,_  
>  _Just like father, then like son._  
>  _Don't delude me with your sympathy,_  
>  _'Cause I can do this on my own._
> 
> _And this won't be the last time,_  
>  _That I break down and wanna crawl to bed._  
>  _'Cause the truth is,_  
>  _You're the only voice I wanna hear in my head._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made up a police commissioner because I have no idea who the commissioner is now??? 
> 
> all this fic is is feelings all over the place

“Oh, _ha-ha,_ I get it, because I’m _old?”_ Holt’s expression toward Jake didn’t change much, but he did clink the mug on his desk and pull the door shut with just a little too much force. 

Jake raised his eyebrows as he walked toward Amy. _“Ooookay,_ the Captain Grandpa mug did _not_ work. Also, Holt _might_ be in a bad mood.” Amy made a face at him. “I’m beginning to think we’re just going to have to just tell him. None of our cute ways have worked.”

She frowned. “I just don’t understand how this is the _fifth_ attempt to tell him and he _still_ hasn’t caught on.” 

Jake laughed, then mimicked Holt’s voice. “New detectives joining the ninety-ninth precinct, June 2020? That’s ridiculous. We aren’t taking any new recruits or transfers at the moment, and even if we were, we wouldn’t know who they were this early.”

Amy rolled her eyes. “We’ll talk about it on the way to the doctor.”

He hummed quietly. “What’d you tell him we needed to do?”

“Appointment with a landlord,” Amy replied automatically. She was typing something, not even looking up at Jake as she continued her work. “Something about getting out of the lease for your apartment.” 

“Great. You ready to go?” 

Amy continued typing. He looked down at his watch. “Ames, do you know what time it is?” 

The clicking of her keyboard paused momentarily, then picked back up again. His eyebrows drew together. Rosa caught his attention from across the room. She was looking questioningly between him and Amy. Jake shrugged, then stood and made his way behind her. She jumped slightly when he squeezed that tense spot on her shoulder, but she continued typing. 

“Hey,” he said softly, leaning down to get closer to her ear. “Are you nervous?” 

She didn’t say anything, but her hand quickly clasped over his, still placed on her shoulder. He nodded, then leaned his head against hers. “I know. Appointments are scary. I’m nervous, too.” 

She nodded back, and he pressed a quick kiss against her cheek. She took a deep breath, but she didn’t make any effort to move when he pulled away.

He got down on one knee so he was at her level, swivelling her chair so that she was facing him. He took her hands in his. “Amy, I promise you that no matter what happens today, everything is going to be okay. Unless we go in and they somehow find two _more_ in there, at which point I might pass out.” 

She laughed softly, nodding her head again. She glanced around the precinct, at everyone pointedly looking in other directions. He stood up, leaning in to kiss her forehead gently. 

“I have a good feeling, Ames. Whatever comes next, it’s you and me.” 

“I love you.” She smiled up at him, then exited out of her screen, standing up and pulling her jacket off the back of her chair. 

“I love you,” he replied. “And you, and you,” he added, pressing his hand gently on her small bump.

She swatted his hand away, but then laced her fingers with his. _“Holt’s gonna see,”_ she scolded with a giggle. 

—

The hospital always smelled the same. This was the only place where she became acutely aware that the concept of sickness actually had its own distinct smell. Even the women’s reproductive health wing carried with it the heavy, suffocating scent of _sickness_ , made worse by the feeble attempt to hide it with off-brand bleach, undoubtedly diluted with too much water.

Jake squeezed her hand again, tearing her away from her thoughts for at least the fifth time since they sat down in the waiting room. He smiled at her the same way he always did. She could only hope that she offered him as much encouragement as he was always providing her with. She smiled back, and _god_ she hoped it was more convincing than it felt. 

“Hey, you think I could climb that tree?” 

She raised an eyebrow at him. “What?” 

He gestured out the window with his free hand. “Do you think I could climb that tree?” 

“Jake, I—”

“I’m pretty sure I can climb it, Ames. How tall do you think it is?” 

She stared at him for a moment, eyeing him suspiciously. “When was the last time you climbed a tree?” 

He scrunched up his eyebrows. “Huh.” He tilted his head to the side, eyes wandering as he thought. “You know… I don’t know if I’ve ever climbed a tree before.” 

Her scoff transformed into more of a laugh than she’d intended, and he grimaced at her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she managed through her laughter. “It’s just that, ya’know, you have that thing with heights.”

“I am _not_ afraid of heights,” he defended seriously. “Remember the time I jumped off of that building John McClane style?”

She raised her eyebrows at him knowingly. “Yeah, but remember that time we went rock climbing and you got stuck half way up because you couldn’t find your footing?” 

“The _height_ isn’t the problem. I can jump off of something high any time.” He looked up at the tree, sizing it up. _“Falling_ , on the other hand…” 

“If you can jump off of something high any time, how come you didn’t just jump off of the rock wall?” 

“I jump on _my terms_ , Ames.”

She was about to quip back when the door across from them opened. A short woman with dark hair peered out. “Amy?” 

She turned to look at Jake, exhaling the breath she’d been holding when she found his welcoming expression waiting for her. He squeezed her hand again, offering that kind, loving smile as he stood up and waited for her to join him. 

When she stood up, he rested his hand on her lower back, a small gesture of comfort. He was always there for her, but he had been exceptional from the second he found out that she was pregnant. He was by her side through every problem, be it holding her hair back at 4am or sleepily rubbing his hand over her bump when the heartburn kept her awake. He was especially present when she was upset.

As they neared the halfway point in the pregnancy, she was upset a little bit less frequently. She still had moments of doubt, times when she was afraid or she’d feel the slightest twinge and she was sure that something was wrong, but it was getting easier. Even when she was a nightmare to be around (her words, not his), he was on standby, prepared with a hand to hold and a low, soothing voice speaking words that she believed more each time she heard him say them. _We are going to be okay._

“Okay, Mrs. Peralta, how are you—”

“Santiago,” Jake cut in. He paused for a moment when the nurse looked at him with an eyebrow raised.

“It’s fine, Jake.” Amy shifted so that she could pull his hand from behind her back to her side, where she laced her fingers with his. “Peralta, Santiago. Peralta-Santiago. It’s all fine.” 

He held her eye contact for a moment, then nodded. He avoided the nurse’s eyes when he looked away from Amy. He had been so strong for her, but she could see his fear creeping out in moments like this. He would get hyper-focused on something inconsequential, he’d start fidgeting. She watched as he confirmed her suspicion when he started pulling at the zipper on his hoodie, first adjusting it and then moving on to pull at the strings. 

He was afraid, too. He was worried, too. Yet he dedicated so much time and energy toward making sure she was alright. 

After a quick test on all of her vitals, the nurse left the two of them alone in their room to wait for the doctor. She watched as Jake tapped his foot, shifting after a moment and bouncing his knee instead. 

“Hey,” she said softly. She had clearly snapped him out of his thoughts. He looked at her expectantly, chewing on the inside of his lip. “What are you thinking about?” 

He shrugged, seemingly hesitating. She guessed that he was trying to think of something to say instead of telling her what was actually on his mind. “I don’t know.”

She nodded, then patted the space next to her on the hospital bed. He smiled tightly as he made his way over to her. She was briefly reminded of the time he’d gotten the entire squad trapped at work for 48 hours, working tirelessly to pin the details of the crime that he’d prematurely assigned to a suspect. He’d smiled at her that same way when she asked him what he was thinking then. She was talking about the case, but he revealed to her later (way, way later) that he’d reacted that way because his mind was on _her_. He’d never seen her in her glasses before and she had been getting ready for a date and _was she mad at him?_ That felt like a million years ago. 

He sat down next to her, immediately reaching his arm around her waist. He leaned his head on her shoulder. 

She leaned her head against his. “Tell me about it.”

He shook his head, keeping silent. Another sign that something was bothering him. She pulled away to look at him, scooching to the side when he didn’t immediately look up at her. His hand slipped away from her waist, so he straightened up, folded his hands together in his lap, and looked down at the floor. 

“Jake, it’s okay for you to be scared, too. I’m here for you.” She moved closer to him, pushing her hand in between his so she could intertwine their fingers. “You’re always here for me. Let me be here for you, too.” 

He hummed quietly, moving again so he could rest his head on her shoulder. “I’m just worried. I try not to be.” She felt him shrug. “Because I really think everything’s going to work out, and I know that we’ll get through it even if it doesn’t.”

He was silent for a moment, and she turned her head so that she could press a kiss onto his forehead. He sniffled quietly, and when he spoke again, it was barely a whisper. 

“I just want this so bad. For you. For us.” 

She could feel tears pricking in her eyes, but she did her best to gain control of them. “I know. But I promise you, no matter what happens, things will be different this time. I’m not going anywhere.”

He lifted his head up to look at her. “Promise?”

She raised her pinky wordlessly, waiting for him to link it with his. He looked at it for a moment, then his eyes returned to hers. He slowly wrapped his pinky around hers, nodding surely at her. 

When their pinkies broke apart, he leaned closer to her, his hand moving to her jaw as he kissed her. He was strong and sure, and she wondered how such a chaste kiss could somehow leave her so breathless. He leaned his forehead against hers as they both took deep breaths together, glistening eyes not quite betraying them. 

“I love you,” she whispered. “And thank you. For everything.”

He smiled gently. “I love you.” His hand moved back to her bump. “And you, and you.”

That’s how they remained until the doctor walked in the room a few minutes later. Leaned together, breath steadying as they barely managed to keep their tears at bay, his hand tracing along her abdomen.

The light knock at the door startled them both. Dr. Anderson poked his head into the room. “Mrs. Santiago, Mr. Peralta? You ready for me?” 

Jake reluctantly pulled his forehead away from hers. He leaned forward to smile sheepishly at the doctor. “As ready as we’ll ever be.”

Dr. Anderson smiled and walked all the way in, shutting the door quietly behind him. Jake moved off of the bed, taking the seat next to it so he wasn’t in the way while the doctor poked at her. 

“So how are you doing, Amy? Any complaints?”

Amy shrugged. “You know, the usual. The morning sickness seems to have stopped.”

“Eggs still make her sick,” Jake informed, something fun he’d learned a few days earlier.

“They do. Heartburn at night, not so bad during the day. I always want sour gummy worms, so Jake’s basically thriving.”

“Lean back, please,” he directed. Amy lifted up her shirt, she knew the drill. “Sour gummy worms, huh?” He asked, chuckling in Jake’s direction. “That all sounds fine. Do you have any concerns?”

Amy looked at Jake, wincing only a little when the doctor spread the cold gel on her belly. Jake reached out and took her hand, squeezing gently. She looked back to the doctor. “Should I have felt them moving by now?” 

The doctor looked seriously at her for a moment, and she felt her heart drop into her stomach. Something was wrong. Something was wrong and she hadn’t said anything and maybe if she’d mentioned this concern earlier, things would have been okay but she didn’t say anything and now _look at his face,_ something was definitely wrong.

“You mean that you haven’t felt them kicking?” Amy nodded solemnly, finally breathing again when Jake squeezed her hand as a reminder.

“Well, you’re eighteen weeks right now. With twins, that’s typical. It’s likely that, pending everything is fine right now, you should feel the first kick within the next two weeks or so.”

Amy nodded, releasing another long exhale. She was getting herself all worked up over nothing. The stress wasn’t good for the babies. 

The doctor smoothed the wand over her belly, quiet as he looked at the black and gray swirls on the screen. He applied a little pressure and she felt as they fluttered inside of her, but there were no outward movements. 

“Ah, here we go,” the doctor smiled, clicking at the screen. “We have the sex on baby number one.” He looked toward Amy. “Do you want to know?” 

She and Jake had discussed previously that they definitely _did_ want to know. She looked back at Jake, who smiled at her as confirmation. “We do.”

“Baby number one is…” He pointed at the screen. “A boy.” 

Jake sighed softly next to her, and when she looked over at him, his eyes were glistening more than they had been before. He had a huge smile on his face. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, both of them laughing softly as they smiled at each other. 

The doctor moved the wand, humming as he shifted all around. “And baby number two… is stubborn.” 

Jake laughed. “I wonder who they get that from.” 

Amy glared at him, but she laughed. 

“Oh, look at that,” the doctor pointed to the screen again, circling his fingers around two little feet pressed against the monitor. “I’ve never gotten an image this clear of the baby’s feet pressed right into the monitor. Stubborn _and_ exceptional.”

“Sounds like your child,” Jake commented, pressing a kiss against her temple.

“Baby number two is not cooperating,” the doctor frowned as he applied pressure in different places, trying to annoy the baby into moving. “I’d like to try something, if that’s okay with the two of you.” 

Jake and Amy both nodded. He pulled a cloth over and began wiping the gel off of Amy’s belly. She frowned. That was all the imagery they were getting?

“Jake, will you talk to them?” 

He scrunched his eyebrows up, looking between the doctor and Amy. He talked to them all the time, but not usually in front of anyone but Amy. Amy nodded at him encouragingly. 

“Uh… Sure, I guess… No doubt, no doubt...” 

He shifted closer, rubbing his hand over her belly. His eyes flickered over at the doctor uncomfortably. 

“Would you like me to give you a little bit of privacy?” He asked. 

Jake offered a weak grin, nodding. “If you could, that’d be great.” 

“Make sure you focus on this side, though.” He gestured to the left side of her belly. “That’s where baby number two is.” 

With that, he stepped back out of the room. Jake looked up at Amy, still smiling uncomfortably. She laughed, running her fingers through his curls. “Just like at home, babe.”

“It just feels so _theatrical_ here. Like, should I do voices?” He took a deep breath, then began speaking in a deep voice that she could only describe as one you’d hear at the beginning of a preview for an action movie. “Hello, babies—”

She cut him off, laughing. “I think the point is for them to hear _your_ voice.”

He laughed softly. “Right, right.” He rested his forehead against her for a moment, then pressed a kiss onto her belly. “Okay,” he began with a shaky voice. “So we just found out that one of you is a boy,” he paused, tilting his head in thought before continuing, “not that you _have_ to be, or anything. You can both be anything or anyone you want to be, but right now, you’re a boy— Can I?” He turned and looked at Amy. “I don’t know, can I, like, start over? I feel like I messed up.”

“You’re doing great,” Amy replied, playing with the curls at the top of his head again, a smile stretched lazily across her lips. He sighed and leaned his head back against her, tipping toward the sensation of her fingers in his hair. She rolled her eyes lovingly. “That’s your dad, guys.”

“And girls,” he added, looking up at her with a grin on his face. “I have a feeling that our little stubborn one is a girl.”

She let her hand follow the curve of her bump. “Is that true? Do we have a girl and a boy in there?” 

Jake littered a few more kisses across her skin. “Mhmm. John and Nakatomi.” 

“Jake—”

He laughed. “I’m joking. But I do think we have a boy and a girl. Two super-organized, super-smart little Santiago babies in there. One is super stubborn, like you, and the other is _super_ agreeable, like me.” She tugged his hair a little harder at that, pulling another laugh out of him. “And they both love gummy worms.”

“Ugh, _gummy worms_. The three of you can’t gang up on me like this.” 

He turned his face toward her belly, nuzzling closer and pressing a few more kisses sporadically. “We’re all against mommy, right? What do you two think?” He turned so his ear was against her, then gasped. “I don’t know, Ames. They said they’re Team Dad.” 

She crossed her arms. “Well Team Mom has gummy worms, and she’s not sharing.”

Jake turned his head back toward the babies. “Look at that, I’m already getting in trouble for you guys!”

The doctor knocked at the door and poked his head in. “How are we doing in here? Ready to try again?” 

Jake smiled up at Amy, moving back to her side and taking her hand. “Is this a thing? The babies move when you talk to them?” 

“They’re always moving around in there,” Amy replied.

The doctor was already returning the gel to her skin and rolling the wand over it. “Actually, they can’t exactly hear you yet.” 

Jake raised his eyebrows. “They can’t?” 

“Nope. Developmentally speaking, not for another five weeks or so, approximately.” 

Amy resisted laughing at him as he turned to look at her incredulously. “Then why did you ask me to talk to them just now?” 

He clicked to take a few more images before he redirected his attention to Jake. “It’s just something I like to try. It doesn’t always work. I like to think it has something to do with feeling the vibrations from your voice. They get to know their parents in different ways pretty early on.” He adjusted the wand and clicked another image. “Congratulations,” he added. “You’re having a boy and a girl.” 

Jake turned to look at her, his eyes immediately glistening. “We’re having a boy and a girl,” he gushed, resting his forehead against hers. She laughed with him, sharing a quick, chaste kiss before she had more questions for the doctor. 

“So how do they look?” 

“Everything looks _great_. Two healthy little babies in there. All the right amounts of fingers and toes, right on par for the size of eighteen week twins. You’re doing great, Amy.” 

“I told you,” Jake kissed the back of her hand, chuckling when she glared at him. 

“All your blood work and tests look good. I don’t see anything to be concerned about. And with you being almost half-way through… I think you two have some room to relax a little. Things are looking good.”

He wiped the gel off of Amy’s belly, laughing as she quickly pulled her shirt down and accepted the hug that Jake was rushing to give her. He held her close, and it felt like a weight had been lifted off of her chest. 

“Alright, do you have any other questions right now?” 

Jake and Amy exchanged a look, then both shook their heads. 

“Great! Well, I’ll see you back in four weeks for a quick check-up, then another three or four weeks after that for the glucose test. As always, if you have any questions or concerns, you have my phone number and email. Don’t hesitate to call me with anything. ” He collected the clipboard he came in with and smiled at them. “The nurse will bring you the sonogram images, and I’ll see you in a few weeks. Congratulations, again.”

“Thank you, Dr. Anderson,” Jake replied before Amy even had a chance.

“Thank you so much,” she tacked on.

As soon as the doctor shut the door, Jake dropped to his knees. He put both hands on her belly as he spoke to the babies. “I knew you were a boy and a girl! Another win for Team Dad!” 

-—

Amy stared into the mirror, a frown plastered onto her face. She smoothed the fabric of the dress she had purchased a few months earlier over her body, watching as it clung to her new curves. She groaned loudly, coaxing a figure behind her in the mirror. She watched her husband’s eyes as they fell onto her reflection, slowly tracing the expanse of her body. A smile fell over his lips as he reached his arms around her. 

“What’s wrong, babe?” He had to have been kidding. 

She sighed and leaned against him. “Well, when I bought this dress, I thought I would be the only one wearing it.” She rolled her eyes dramatically in the mirror and let her hands join his on her belly. “It’s a little bit obvious that there are three of us in here, isn’t it? Maybe I should run out and find a dress that’s a little more concealing.” 

“Concealing?” Jake furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head. “Why would you want to conceal this?”

Amy’s frown only got deeper. She turned sideways in the mirror, his hands falling from her body as he watched her smooth the dress over her belly. It was admittedly much larger than when they had purchased the dress for this event, pulling him into the bedroom to model it for him, but it looked just as beautiful now as it had then. While she had been pregnant when she bought it, she hadn’t found out yet, and she had attributed the tiny growth around her abdomen more to the menu of take-out that they typically had for dinner than to the possibility of a baby, much less _two_ babies, growing inside of her. She had made mental notes that she needed to make an extended effort to hit the gym, or at least work on getting grocery items that didn’t require her to cook them. Now there was no denying that she was pregnant. Her sergeant’s uniform concealed her well enough that it wasn’t a daily topic (unless she ran into Charles), though she took extra care to hold binders and folders and just about anything else she could find in front of her stomach, just in case. But she hadn’t even gotten the news across to Holt, yet. Now she would be attending a fundraiser gala with tons of NYPD superior officers. The fundraiser gala that she had purchased a dress for before she was aware that she would be almost five months pregnant while wearing it. 

“This just isn’t how I pictured I would look in this dress.” She trailed off slowly, thinking. Jake now had a frown to match hers. 

“I don’t think I know what you mean.” 

“Jake, look at me.” She turned to him and gestured at her belly. _“This._ I’m like three times the size that I normally am. I wanted to look professional, but sexy. Now I don’t know if I can look professional _or_ sexy.” 

He scoffed at her. “Amy, you’re beautiful.” She turned her head away, refusing to listen to him being nice just for her sake. “Amy Santiago, look at me.” She reluctantly met his gaze. He placed a hand on her face while he spoke. “You are the most beautiful woman that I have ever seen. And I can’t think of anything sexier than you growing our babies inside of you. You look perfect. I don’t know how I’m supposed to walk around and talk to other people when you’re in the same room looking like _that.”_

She wanted to roll her eyes and say that he was still just saying that to make her feel better, but he was _beaming._ His smile was so bright and reassuring and she could tell by the way the smile touched his eyes that he really meant what he was saying. It brought a small, self-conscious smile to her face, which he kissed away immediately. 

“I swear,” he added. “Pinky swear.” He offered up his pinky, to which she laughed, but hooked her own pinky around. 

She turned back to the mirror, disapprovingly tracing her new curves. “And back to talking to people,” she began, “this will be the only thing that I talk about all night. I’m sure you’re going to be talking about all your cool cases, but everyone is just going to want to talk to me about this.” She pointed at her belly. “I just don’t want to be treated differently, I guess.” 

Jake wrinkled his face. “I’m sure you won’t be.” He watched her reaction in the mirror, noting that that was not the correct answer. He sighed. “Well, you shouldn’t be. You’re the same kickass sergeant that you were before this pregnancy.” He shook his head, brushing her hair back behind her shoulder, and she watched his reflection as his attention was drawn to her neck. “I’ll stick by your side all night long. That’s how I want it anyway. We’ll field all the baby related questions together and I’ll be right there to remind everyone of your accomplishments and all of the cool things you’ve been doing at work.”

She smiled half-heartedly. “You don’t have to do that, Jake. You’ve been working on a lot of great cases lately, I’m sure everyone would love to hear about them.”

Jake laughed. “There is nothing in this world I would like to talk about more than you and our two babies. It’s settled.” He stretched his hand down to gently touch her bump and leaned in to kiss her. “By the way,” he paused for another kiss. “We have a little while before we have to leave. I was thinking just enough time for me to show you exactly how sexy you are.” He raised his eyebrows at her before going in to kiss her again. 

She wasn’t going to pretend for a second that she wasn’t interested. There had been so much going on lately and between her being so sick and so exhausted the past few weeks… They had both been so worried about the pregnancy that they hadn’t been dedicating as much time to their sex life as either of them would have liked, and she wanted nothing more than him at that moment. She wrapped her arms around his neck, quickly giving in and deepening the kiss. His hand was still planted firmly on her belly, and she tried to pry that fact out of her head and take his previous comments to heart. 

They snapped away from the kiss immediately, both with eyebrows raised. There was silence between them as they stayed completely still, waiting. 

“Did… did you feel that?” Amy asked softly. 

Jake was immediately down on his knees, talking to the babies. “Hi, little guys! Oh my god, I can’t believe you just kicked right where my hand was.” He looked up at Amy. “That was a kick, right?” 

Amy nodded, hand covering her mouth. “They were fluttering around a lot this morning, but no kicking.”

“You waited until we were both here to kick for us,” Jake continued. The smile on his face was almost comical. He kissed her belly and continued cooing to the babies as they waited for another movement. She ruffled her fingers through his hair. “I love you,” he looked up so she knew that was directed at her. Then he looked down at her belly again. “And I love you and you. So much. This is so cool.” 

She smiled. “I love you, too. And you, and you,” she added, smoothing her hand next to his. She pulled him back up to kiss her, but his hand stayed on her belly almost obsessively. As soon as she was pretty sure she’d gotten his full attention again, there was another kick. He pulled away again, back down to the babies. Amy rolled her eyes. “Look at that, you guys are already ruining our sex life.” Her laugh was genuine, but a little forced. 

Jake looked up at her, eyes twinkling. “Oh, I haven’t forgotten about you.” He rejoined her, lips pressing against hers hungrily, and by the time he was done with her, she had no doubts that he’d meant every word that he’d said before.

—

They arrived at the gala, hand in hand. Amy could feel eyes on them as soon as they walked through the door. She was thrilled when they saw a table full of familiar faces. They made their way over to join their squad, everyone giving their own greetings.

“You four are looking beautiful, today,” Charles announced as they sat down. 

Amy raised her eyebrows, eyes immediately shifting over to Holt. She turned to look at Jake, who was smiling proudly. “Thank you, Charles.” The look on his face made Amy’s heart feel full. He really was so incredibly proud of their family and he really loved them so much. The anxiety she had been feeling started to fade. She was here with Jake. Everything would be fine. It didn’t _matter_ what anybody else thought. 

“Wait, did you say _four?”_ Holt was staring at them incredulously.

Jake’s smile lit up his face. “Yes, sir. We’re pregnant. With twins.”

“We’ve been trying to tell you,” Amy smiled bashfully.

“Yes, I know.”

“Wait, you know?” Jake made a face.

“I knew that you were expecting, of course. You hadn’t noticed, Detective Santiago, that I’ve been placing you in the field less these days?” He smiled at her. “I was waiting for you to _tell me_ , instead of leaving theatrical gifts with obscure sayings on them.” 

“I told you he wouldn’t like that one,” Amy squinted at Jake. 

“I try not to make a habit out of asking people if they’re pregnant, since on a personal level, that’s none of my business and you weren’t required to tell me. On a professional level, I trusted you both to make me aware when it was necessary.” He nodded. “I wasn’t aware that you were expecting twins, though.” He smiled. “Congratulations.” 

“Thank you, sir.” Amy’s gentle smile spread across her face.

“I mean,” Jake mumbled, pouting through Holt refusing to accept any of his _theatrical_ announcements, “I feel like you could have totally accepted one of my cool ways.” Amy made a face at him, and he smiled at her before turning his smile toward Holt. “Thank you, sir.” 

Holt nodded toward Jake, smiling. “Twins, huh? Have you told Jeffords? I’m sure he’ll be excited about the news.” 

“We haven’t had a chance, yet,” Amy looked over at Jake. 

“We wanted you to know first.” 

Holt smiled, but as he was about to speak, Scully turned toward Amy. “Hey, Amy. You gonna eat that?” 

Amy glanced around in front of her. They hadn’t served any sort of food, yet. He was pointing at a dish of little peppermints. “Am I going to eat this entire dish of peppermints? No, Scully.” 

“Well could you pass it over here?” 

She scoffed and shook her head, but she passed the dish toward him. “Don’t choke.” 

“Wow, look at that. You’re already nailing this mom thing, Santiago.” Rosa snickered when Amy rolled her eyes at her. 

“I told you Hitchcock and Scully wouldn’t care.” Jake whispered with a grin. 

After a few speeches, everyone began mingling around the room. Jake stood and held his hand out to Amy, who gladly accepted it and joined him. When they turned around, they saw someone beelining straight for them. 

“Commissioner Michaelson! Hi!” Amy outstretched her hand and accepted the standing commissioner’s hand. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” Commissioner Michaelson reached out and shook Jake’s hand. She gestured to Amy’s belly. “I see congratulations are in order.”

Amy smiled shyly. “Yeah.”

Jake grinned at Amy as he took over, like he’d promised he would. “We’re due in June.” His hand travelled protectively to Amy’s belly, rubbing softly. Amy’s smile felt much more genuine. 

The commissioner smiled. “Is it a boy or a girl?” 

Amy laughed a little. “Both.” 

“Both?” The commissioner sounded surprised. 

“Twins!” Jake said excitedly. 

“Oh my! Congratulations! You’ll certainly have your hands full, Sergeant Santiago. I wish you both the best.” 

She smiled briefly, then caught someone’s eye and turned and walked away, leaving Jake and Amy both glancing amongst themselves in bewilderment. She hadn’t even given them a chance to react. Jake _would have_ corrected her. They’d _both_ have their hands full, with their twins and with their work, because they were _both_ going to be kicking ass both at being parents _and_ in their respective roles in the NYPD. 

He squeezed her hand and raised his eyebrows at her. “We both will, babe.” 

She nodded knowingly, smiling as he pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. 

The night continued with them having many similar conversations. Jake kept his promise, tossing in stories about Amy’s work life as well as telling some of his own, but the main topic of conversation between them was the family that they were so clearly starting. 

Another familiar face caught them, colored with surprise as he walked closer. 

“Amy,” he said her name uncomfortably. “You— Jake. Hi— You—” He was gesturing between her, Jake, and her belly.

She noticed the familiar pilsner bottle in his hand and gave him a tight smile. “Hello, Teddy.” 

Jake’s protective hold from earlier seemed insignificant. He had an arm wrapped around her waist now, the other shielding his future children from _‘Teddy Wells,’_ she thought it in the same voice she knew he would use to say it. He didn’t say anything to Teddy. He rested his face in her hair and planted a kiss there before turning to smile fakely at Teddy. He was acting like a jealous high school boyfriend, but she wasn’t exactly complaining.

“Baby,” Teddy said, pointing down.

“What?” Amy snapped in false offense. “What do you mean, ‘baby?’” 

“I— Oh, oh my god, no. I’m sorry, I thought—” He laughed. “Well good thing you’re not, because Peralta raising a baby?” He laughed again. “Heard he has enough daddy issues of his own. Probably doesn’t need to add ‘being a dad’ to that list.” 

Jake’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything. Amy pulled out of Jake’s arms and took a step toward Teddy, anger clear on her face. She had just been trying to make a point to Teddy that he shouldn’t walk up and abruptly point to someone’s belly and say _baby_ because that’s rude, but instead of fumbling and apologizing like she’d hoped, he took it in a completely different direction.

“You know what, Teddy? This has nothing to do with you, and you have no place saying anything like that to either of us.” She took another step toward him, invading his space in a way that clearly made him uncomfortable. Jake reached for Amy’s hand to pull her back to him, but she ripped it away, instead choosing to jab a finger in Teddy’s direction. 

“I _am_ pregnant. With _twins_. Five months pregnant with Jake’s babies, not that it’s _any_ of your business. And if that makes you uncomfortable, I don’t give a hoot.”

“I’m sorry,” Teddy began. Amy held up her hand to cut him off. 

“No, you’re not. Because you say you’re sorry every time something like this happens, but the next time we run into each other, it happens again. Jake and I are married. You insulting Jake isn’t going to change that.” She turned back to Jake before pausing, realizing that she forgot to add something in. 

“And another thing—Jake will be a _great_ dad. He’s the greatest husband I could ever ask for and he already does things for our family that you would never understand. It’s been years, Teddy. Move on.”

She turned back and looked at Jake, a look of surprise and warmth in his expression. She took his hand and pulled him away, over to Rosa who had been watching nearby. 

She laughed. “Badass. Want me to go break his wrist?” 

Amy shot back a soft smile. “A little. I don’t know what happened. Maybe hormones.” She shrugged, glancing over at Jake’s dazed expression. 

“It was hot,” Jake announced, biting his lip as he smiled at her. 

Rosa looked at him, an eyebrow raised, before nodding in agreement. “Yeah, it was.” They all laughed. 

The rest of the night went without incident. The rest of the squad had just made their way out. They were gathering their coats to leave when they ran into yet another familiar face. 

Jake scoffed. “Ugh. What are you even doing here? I thought this was an NYPD event.” 

“It’s open to all public defenders,” Fire Marshal Boone shot back. He smiled at Amy and turned to shoot back some quip at Jake when he noticed the situation in front of him. He smiled at Amy once again. “Congratulations! And Peralta, congratulations to you, too.” 

Amy smiled and thanked him. Jake made some light-hearted comment of thanks, clearly not fully meaning it. He rolled his eyes. His relationship with Boone had never been a good one. 

Boone smiled again. “Well, I’ll let you two get off, then.” He waved, but before he turned, he added one more comment. “Good luck raising kids with that one,” he pointed at Jake. “He told me the stories about his dad. I don’t know about him, but I know my brothers parent just like my father did.” He shrugged, smiled as if what he had just said had been somehow encouraging, then turned around and walked away, leaving both Jake and Amy dumbfounded. 

“What the _fuck,”_ Amy began softly, but Jake grabbed her wrist as she started after Boone. 

“Babe, c’mon. It’s not worth it.” 

“It is,” she insisted. “You are.” 

He laced his fingers with hers, his other hand shifting back down to her belly. “And I have everything I need right here. Boone doesn’t matter.”

She stared at him for a moment, probably assessing him. Then she lifted her hand to his face. He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes for a moment. It had been a crazy, exhausting night. He was happy to soak in this moment with his wife, embracing each other in front of the coat check like they were the only people left in the building. That’s how he felt about her all the time, though. Like she was the only person in the room. And, to be fair, he could use her comfort. Boone’s comment got under his skin a little, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Like he said, Boone didn’t matter. Everyone that mattered was behind them one hundred percent. 

_Well… almost everyone,_ his brain supplied. There was his father, who wasn’t behind them one hundred percent, exactly. And while he wasn’t on the list of people whose support Jake felt he really _needed_ —he’d gone almost his entire life without it, after all—there was an ache in his chest at the absence of his father’s support on this particular issue. Then there was the problem of his father’s words from a few weeks earlier, words that had haunted him since he’d heard them. _The Peralta curse. Peralta men don’t get along with their sons._

A son, which Jake had learned earlier in the day, he was going to have. 

_“Ugh,_ what a _bummer.”_ A familiar voice broke the silence, popping the little bubble of comfort Amy had provided him with. 

Jake sighed softly, his eyebrows pulling together as he allowed himself another second with his eyes closed. Amy tensed at the voice, but her hand didn’t leave his face. They really couldn’t catch a fucking break today, huh? 

The offending voice was closer this time around. He clicked his tongue. “Thought I told you to keep it tight, Santiago.” Jake opened his eyes at that, turning to glare at the Vulture. “Although… I mean, you’re knocked up and that’s gross, but looking at you I can totally see why some guys are into pregnant chicks. Still hot.”

“Are you fucking—”

“Babe,” Amy pulled his wrist, offering him a pleading glance when he looked over at her. He sighed, pressing his lips together tight as he looked back over at Pembroke with disdain in his eyes. _He’s still a superior officer,_ Amy would’ve said if he’d actually said what he wanted to say. 

The Vulture smirked over at Jake. “God, look at that. Hope you don’t have a son in there, Peralta. Doing a perfect job at showing him exactly how not to be a man.” He stepped a little closer, and Jake reflexively tucked his shoulder in front of Amy in an attempt at keeping a little space between them. The only thing worse than their babies being near a firefighter was their babies being near _the Vulture._ He peered around Jake’s shoulder pointedly at Amy. “You want a real man to raise your baby, you know where to find me.” 

_“Ames,”_ Jake hissed softly, his eyes never leaving the Vulture’s. There was a little twinkle in his eyes. He was enjoying this, and Jake hated him more for it. 

“He doesn’t matter.” 

Jake released his breath in a huff, his shoulders loosening a bit as he turned back toward Amy. She was right. He turned back toward the Vulture’s laughter. 

“Santiago really owns your big, white ass, huh?” Jake rolled his eyes, already turning back to take Amy’s hand and leave when the voice continued. “Don’t worry. When you’re as bad at being a dad as you are at being a detective, I’ll swoop in and vulture your kid _and_ your wife right out from under you.”

He stopped in his tracks not because he wanted to, but because Amy had abruptly stopped in front of him. She turned on her heel, not shifting to Jake’s side, but addressing Pembroke over his shoulder. 

“You know what?”

“Amy.” His voice was soft, a gentle reminder at where they were and how this would look. She didn’t seem to care, but he shifted in front of her so that she could no longer see the Vulture over his shoulder. She looked into his eyes, the tension between her eyebrows dissolving as she looked at him. He rubbed his hands on her shoulders gently. “He doesn’t matter, right?” 

“He can’t just—”

“I know.” Jake nodded at her. “I know. Let’s just go home. You shouldn’t stress over him.”

Pembroke scoffed. “You turds are perfect for each other.”

“Only because the stress is bad for the babies.” Amy directed her comment to Jake, lacing their fingers together once again. 

“Wait, did you say _babies?”_ The Vulture started back up again. “More than one? Shit, that’s double the opportunity for you to suck, Peralta.”

Jake bit back a laugh when Amy hurled her free hand behind her to flip him off as they walked out the door. 

“Fuck that guy,” she murmured once they were finally out in the crisp air. “He’s the worst.” 

“The _worst.”_ Jake repeated, wrapping an arm around her to keep her warm on their short trek to the car. He walked her to her side, opening the door for her. She turned to face him. 

“Hey, Jake…” She wrapped her arms around him, her hands resting on the back of his neck. “Don’t let all that stuff bother you. They don’t know what they’re talking about.” 

He shied away from her eyes, but the darkness provided him a little bit of cover, so she didn’t comment on it. After a moment, he lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. She scratched her fingernails gently through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Okay?” 

He nodded. “I love you, Amy.” 

“I love you, too.” 

He leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. “Now get in the car, you’ve gotta be freezing in that dress.”

And he tried. He _really_ tried not to let all that stuff bother him. He knew, objectively, that none of those people really knew him. He knew that it didn’t matter what they thought. It mattered what Amy thought. And Amy thought he was going to be a great dad. She’d said as much when Teddy made his snide comment earlier in the evening. 

But all in all, his mind was a pretty bad place to be at the moment. Everyone’s comments swirling around in his head, his father’s, the police commissioner’s, Teddy’s, Boone’s, the Vulture’s… Maybe if they’d all been spaced out a little further, it wouldn’t have meant so much, but all of it hitting him all at once was enough to knock the breath out of him, an assault that he hadn’t even been remotely prepared for. 

Then there was the guilt. After holding onto his father’s words so tightly, he’d been hoping and praying that they’d have a girl. Healthy was the most important thing to him, but second to healthy was _girls_. He wanted girls. He didn’t want a greater opportunity to fuck it all up, and according to his father, according to the words that echoed in his head every time his mind wandered to a little boy with his curls and Amy’s eyes, he’d definitely fuck it all up with a boy. 

When the doctor said that baby number one was a boy, all he’d felt was love and adoration. For his wife, for their child, for stubborn baby number two that wouldn’t shift enough for the doctor to get a clear image. But when they got the sex on baby number two… he felt _relief_. 

_At least they weren’t both boys._

And really, that was worse than feeling fear when he heard _it’s a boy._

His children hadn’t even been born yet and he was already treating them differently. He was already clinging to the promise of what having one girl meant, as opposed to two boys. Without having met the babies, he was assuring himself that even though having a son would be difficult, it would all be fine because he was also going to have a daughter. Jake loved both babies, and he _wanted_ both babies, both his daughter _and_ his son, but the language that he was already using in his head was enough to make him feel sick to his stomach with guilt. 

He had been the child that a father didn’t want. He had been that son. He lived it, and that experience colored every situation that he’d lived through. It affected the way he was looking at the prospect of raising his own son now. 

He kept trying to shake the feeling. He loved both of their babies. He would never make one of his children feel the way his father had made him feel. He was excited for both babies. He was proud of both babies, even before they were born. 

But he knew what his knee jerk reaction was. He was relieved to be having a daughter. And he would never— _never_ —say it… but what if all of this meant that he loved their daughter more than he loved their son? What if he was setting up their son for a childhood that was just like his, even without his physical absence? What if their son would be able to tell that he felt differently about him than he did about his sister? What if he could tell that he was afraid to be his dad? What if he really _couldn’t_ get along with his son? Would that be because of the Peralta curse? Or would it be a self-fulfilling prophecy, something that he’d breathed into existence because of his own baggage?

This was something that had been plaguing him _before_ they got to the gala. It was on his mind _before_ the police commissioner said that _just_ Amy was going to have her hands full, before Teddy said _good thing, because Peralta raising a baby?_ He’d been trying to shove the thoughts away before Boone offhandedly said _good luck raising a baby with him_. Then he hadn’t even had time to try and convince himself that none of them knew what they were talking about before the Vulture swooped in, except this time he wasn’t vulturing a case, he was vulturing everyone else’s hurtful words by throwing his own into the mix.

Okay, that was a shitty comparison, but he has a lot on his mind, _keep up._

When the Vulture’s _when you’re as bad at being a dad as you are at being a detective_ , a ridiculous thing to say considering he was a _phenomenal_ detective, or his _double the opportunity for you to suck_ was the cherry on top of the _Jake’s gonna be a shitty dad_ sundae… 

It was getting to him. 

And yeah, fuck the Vulture. Fuck Boone, and fuck Teddy, and fuck their standing commissioner who probably couldn’t tell Jake apart from anybody else on a regular day. Fuck his dad, and fuck the Peralta curse, and fuck the way that some days, he still felt just like that little boy, waiting in the window for his dad to come back. Some days, no matter what he did, no matter how loud his presence was, no matter how many cases he’d solved, no matter how wonderful his marriage was, he still just felt so _small._

Like no matter what he did, he’d never be able to outgrow the massive shadow of a boy who felt so small, so sad, and so broken. 

It didn’t matter if the Vulture knew him. It didn’t matter if Boone, or Teddy, or Michaelson, or even his father really knew him. He knew himself. 

He knew himself, and he knew that he let out a little sigh of relief when he found out that he wasn’t having two boys. And really, that told him everything he needed to know about what kind of father he was going to be. 

And then there was another layer of guilt on top of all of that. He and Amy used to have this little bit of solidarity with each other, a bond of disillusion with their parents. Don’t get him wrong, he was _so_ glad that Camila had surprised them both and been on board and more supportive than anyone could have imagined. He wanted that for Amy. She got some words from her mother that she’d been longing to hear, and the contented smile on her face when she recounted the story to him was enough to keep him smiling for three days.

But on the other hand… It almost felt like he was going through the stuff with his dad alone now. It was stupid. He was being stupid. She still understood what it was like to be disappointed by your parents, but he just felt so silly bringing it all up to her when things had gone so well with her mom. He couldn’t dump all this on Amy. It was just more added stress that she didn’t need. And what, he was just supposed to look at her and say _hey, I know you see all this good in me, but you have no idea what you’re talking about?_ Why? Because his dad decided there was such a thing as a Peralta curse, which, he was aware, was probably somehow even more ridiculous than it already sounded? 

They were home way faster than he thought they would be, and before he knew it, he was tunneling into the blankets and hoping that he could pass as sleeping by the time Amy was done taking off her makeup. She always knew when something was bothering him. 

Maybe she already knew. He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was just because she’d been there with him the whole day, when all those little comments were made. Maybe it was because the day had been so long and exhausting. Maybe it was because she could just tell that he needed her. 

She slipped into bed next to him, and for a moment, he thought he’d won the fake sleeping battle. But then she was rubbing her hand on his bicep, her other hand already carding through his hair. 

“C’mere,” she murmured softly. 

And he hadn’t realized how much he needed it, how much he needed _her_. He rolled over obediently, burying his face in her chest as she offered her arms to him. She held him close, one hand rubbing slow and consistent circles across his back, the other playing with his hair. He took a slow, deep breath, tears already springing in his eyes because _how was he going to do this?_ How was he going to be a dad? He didn’t know what dads were supposed to do. He didn’t _have one_ growing up. And… what? He was supposed to just wing it? Just… do this? He was already having so much trouble and the babies weren’t even here yet. He was going to mess it all up. He was going to disappoint them. But the final thing that pushed him over the edge… 

He was going to let _her_ down. 

He released a broken sob into her chest. She shushed him softly, her fingers making steady work of tracing through his hair. He loved her so much. She was going to be the most amazing mother, and he was going to let her down. His amazing wife, who deserved the world, who would undoubtedly manage to navigate being the perfect mother, continuing to work her way up the ranks of the NYPD, and continuing to be such a great wife and just all around person. This woman who was holding him, comforting _him_ , who made him feel so much better just by existing… he was going to let her down. 

He wasn’t cut out for this. He wasn’t ready for this. 

And for the first time in his life… he got it. 

This is exactly why his father ran off. 

_This_ was the Peralta curse. 

It wasn’t just fathers not getting along with sons. It was fathers building sons that don’t know how to form adequate, lasting relationships with other people. It was fathers who never learned how to be fathers, fathers who tried their hardest as long as they could, but could never kick the feeling that was overwhelming Jake in this moment. This is why his father left him. He wasn’t ready to be a father. He didn’t feel like he could be a good role model for his son. He was afraid, and he thought that if he just left when Jake was young that it would save both of them a lot of trouble and heartache. Facing all of this… he finally understood. 

He would never leave his family. He would never leave his children, never leave his son, never leave Amy. 

But he was afraid. He felt inadequate, he felt unsure, he felt like he was already monumentally screwing this all up. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of unknowns, like he’d never be able to get his footing again, like the world was crumbling around him and all he could do was helplessly watch it all happen. He felt insecure, felt hurt in this moment, hurt by all of their words, hurt by lifelong traumas that he still hadn’t fully worked through, and all he could do was just let it all out as Amy held him. 

“I know,” she whispered. She held him, and she kissed his forehead, and she whispered to him and promised him that everything was going to be okay. She told him she loved him, her hands never leaving him, her voice never wavering. He was struck for probably the millionth time with how exceptional his wife was. Her love was enduring, all consuming, infinite. Even during that brief time when she left, she’d done it out of love for him. They had that in common. They’d do anything for each other. 

He relaxed into her arms, his sobs eventually calming back into gentle sniffles. She gave him a few minutes to relax before she spoke, her hands still working on raking through his curls. 

As he tried to regulate his breathing, a memory popped into his awareness. Years ago, before he ever admitted that he liked Amy, the first time that she ever met his dad. She watched through guarded eyes, assessing him as he picked up Jake’s various toys off of his desk, and he pretended he didn’t notice as he showed his father around the precinct, introducing him to everyone. He’d shared stories with her, late night stakeouts where things got too real, her fingers intertwining with his when he’d gotten lost in his thoughts, both of them staring forward at the warehouse they were staking out, never talking about it again. 

She’d been there for him like that almost the entire time they’d known each other, and unlike with other people, he didn’t deflect when things got too real with her, even at the beginning. He just stayed quiet and took it all in, and that became a facet of their friendship. They were competitive, they spent more time teasing and upstaging each other than almost anything else, but when it was just the two of them… they were real. It’s why he fell so hard for her in the beginning. She had been known to bring up a teasing _okay, Pineapples_ every now and then, but the real stuff always just stayed between them. 

So when she ran into him alone in the evidence room after the first time she’d met his father, she was concerned. She’d heard the stories, after all. And of course, young, naive Jake who still had way more problems to work through than he even knew… He brushed her off. His dad was great! Things were going great! She had no reason to be concerned! She nodded and let him go. 

But what really mattered wasn’t her concern before things went wrong. What mattered was the tactful way she handled it all once his father had left again. She had every reason to laugh, to toss out a cold _I told you so._ He hadn’t exactly been the most pleasant when she’d originally brought up her concerns, dismissing her and getting defensive. She sat next to him the whole night. While the rest of their friends filtered in and out of the scene, she was right there—a constant. And when he announced that he was going to head home and she raised an eyebrow, commenting on how early it was, he offered a dry laugh and a, _well, you know what they say. Like father, like son. I should get used to dipping out early._

She laced her fingers with his. He looked down at their hands, then up at her face, but she had her head turned forward, just like they were on a stakeout. He continued watching her quietly as her fingers brushed across his knuckles, a swell of affection for her overcoming him. She finally returned his gaze. 

_The Jake Peralta I know is nothing like his father._ She studied his face, and he felt so warm underneath her insistent eyes. _And I think I know him pretty well._

And that was it. He’d joked about finding Amy attractive, part of their never ending banter, and of course she really _was_ attractive, but she was his partner and he’d never really dedicated more thought to it than a fleeting moment of _damn, Santiago_ or a weak moment of wandering eyes when she wore his favorite navy pantsuit with that pink shirt underneath, but this was it. This swell of affection for her, this soft moment where she was quiet and real and she truly cared about him, and how could she look so pretty under the harsh lighting in the bar, her hair long twisted out of its bun and falling over her shoulder? She looked over at him, a shy sort of expression on her face as she took him in, her dark eyelashes fluttering against her flushed cheeks as she avoided his eyes, her free hand coming up to tuck her hair behind her ear, and _he wanted to kiss Amy Santiago._

He didn’t. He didn’t kiss her for a long time after that, but that was the first time he’d wanted to. That was when she officially went from Amy Santiago, his uptight partner who he was going to spend every waking moment trying to annoy, his biggest competition in the nine-nine, who his eyes were drawn to throughout the day for a reason he couldn’t identify, to Amy Santiago, the biggest crush he’d had since Jenny Gildenhorn. 

Really, those two people had always been the same. This realization didn’t change their dynamic. He still annoyed her, she still forced him to follow the rules, they were still over competitive with every little bet and joke and game, but he saw her in a different light. The fluorescent lighting at the bar, with soft eyes and a smile to match, her cheeks colored pink from the alcohol and, he hoped, maybe something more, too. 

“Are you ready to talk about it?” 

He nuzzled his face into her chest, prolonging his silence for a moment before ultimately deciding that she deserved an answer. 

His voice was weak, slightly muffled into her shirt. “I don’t want to stress you out.” 

“Being here for you doesn’t stress me out, Jake.” She fell quiet, the hand that had been on his back coming up to stroke his cheek. “It stresses me out more to know that you have such big things going on in your head and you’re taking it all on by yourself. Ya’know, I’ve been there, and I know it’s not a good place to be. I should’ve been letting you in all that time, and I hope you know that you can always let me in, too. There’s nothing we can’t take on together.” 

He stretched his arm up from where it was wrapped around her so he could brush his fingers on the outside of her arm. After a few moments of trying to keep his emotions together, he nodded against her. “I’m scared, Ames.” 

She held him, waiting quietly for him to continue. 

“Ya’know, all those people today…” He shook his head. “It kind of just feels like everybody’s waiting for me to fail. And, ya’know, it’s not like that’s a feeling that’s entirely new to me… uh, but this time… I think maybe I’m waiting for me to fail, too.” 

She tensed for a moment, but she quickly relaxed. “What people? Teddy? Boone? The Vulture?” She paused a moment to collect her thoughts. “You said it yourself, babe. Those people don’t matter. They don’t really know you. Nobody that really knows you is waiting for you to fail. We’re all in your corner.” 

“Yeah.” He swallowed. “What about my dad?” 

Her fingers stilled in his hair. “Your dad?” 

Jake nodded, taking a second to swallow back another round of emotions. “Yeah. Uh, he said…” He swallowed again, shaking his head. Her fingers began pulling through his hair again. He hummed. “He said he’s worried for me. Something about the Peralta curse.”

“The Peralta curse?” 

“Peralta men don’t get along with their sons,” he informed quietly. “I guess it goes back generations, all shitty dads, just like mine was. And now that I’m gonna be a dad…” 

His hand strayed down to her bump, absentmindedly dipping his fingers under her shirt and tracing his fingertips along the curve in one direction, chasing the path with his palm, then repeating. She hummed quietly. 

“Do you want to know how I know that the Peralta curse ends with you?” She pressed her fingers underneath his jaw, gently tipping his face up to look at her. He nodded. “You care so much. About the babies, and about all of this, about our future and how you’re going to do. You have been here through every step of all of this, even when things were harder than I ever thought they would be. And I don’t just mean right now. I mean two years ago, I mean last year, I mean all those hormone shots, all the appointments, through me completely losing my way… You were here for our family even when I wasn’t, Jake.” 

“That’s not fair,” he began to defend her, but she shook her head. 

“I know you don’t blame me for all of that. And I’m not saying that I’m going to be a bad mom—”

“Good, because you’re not going to be a bad mom, Ames. You’re going to be the best mom. Our kids are lucky to have you.” 

He adjusted, sliding down her body so that his arm was thrown across her hips. He tugged her shirt up gently, resting his forehead against her belly as he pressed two soft, slow kisses to her skin. “So lucky.” 

She laughed quietly. “They can’t hear you, babe.” 

“That doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop saying it.” 

She tugged her fingers out of his hair and rested her palm on his cheek. “They’re lucky to have both of us, Jake.” He made a noncommittal sound, then pressed his lips back against her. “Jake.” She waited until he looked back up at her. “I know you’re going to be a great dad because you’re here. You’re sitting here with me, telling me about everything that scares you. You could be avoiding it, you could be off finding some other way to make yourself feel better, you could be running away from the problem, but you’re not. You’re here with me.”

He offered her a weak smile, closing his eyes and nuzzling his face against the side of her belly. She could tell that it was still eating at him. 

“Look, Jake. It’s going to be hard and it’s going to be scary. We’re probably going to make a million mistakes. But you’re going to be an amazing dad. I’m proud for our babies to have you as a dad. And I know that no matter what happens, we’re going to work through this together. And no matter how hard and scary it is, it’s going to be so rewarding.” She ruffled her fingers through his hair, smiling as he dropped a few kisses across her abdomen. “Watching you with them is already so rewarding and they aren’t even here yet. I feel safe with you, and I bet the babies already do, too.” 

He was in the middle of pressing a line of kisses across her belly when a little sharp movement bumped right against his lips. He looked up at Amy excitedly, then shifted again so he could rest both palms on her belly. 

“Hi, babies! Are you guys awake in there?” 

“See,” Amy began with a laugh at his bewildered, adoring expression, “they agree.” 

“I can’t wait to meet them.” He grinned up at her, then turned back to her belly. “But you gotta let your mommy get some sleep tonight, guys. She’s going through hell for us here.” He leaned his forehead in, like he was pressing his forehead against one of theirs. “And I’m already a handful for mom tonight, so I need you guys to take one for the team and relax in there. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow with gummy worms.” 

“Mmmm, gummy worms,” Amy hummed. 

Jake chuckled. “I love you guys. Goodnight, my little artichokes.” He pressed two final kisses to her abdomen, then crawled back up her body with a sheepish smile. 

She grinned as he kissed her. “I love you, Jake.” 

“Love you.” He settled into her side, his face hiding in the crook of her neck. She was right. It was okay to be afraid, but they had each other, and they’d be okay as long as they had each other. He was more sure of that than anything else. 

“It’s normal to be scared. I’m so scared to bring two babies into this world,” she began again, her voice soft. “But there’s nobody I’d rather do it with than you.” 

“Title of your sex tape.” 

She shook her head, laughing quietly at his effort to distance himself from the emotion that had been weighing on him way longer than was comfortable for him. “You’re the only part of all of this that I’ve never doubted. Not even for a second.” 

He lifted his head to look into her eyes. “Really?” 

She nodded at him, a grin spreading across her face as her thumb rubbed gently at his cheek. “Really.” 

He leaned his forehead against hers, both of them exhaling elated, breathless giggles. 

Her kiss was safety. It was warmth, and light, and wonder. She held his face gently, her lips soft, but sure on his. Every fear that he had melted away. It wouldn’t be the last time that they had a conversation like this, and it would be far from the last time that he was faced with fears and insecurities about his own parenting abilities, but there were a few things that would always remain constant. 

He loved his wife. She was strong and capable and independent, and she didn’t need him for anything—but that would never stop him from being there through it all. He knew that even on his worst days, he could lean on her for support, and he’d be right there to return the favor for her. Her arms always felt like home, and her lips on his forehead always brought him a sense of calm and serenity that he couldn’t find anywhere else. Her eyes always made him feel like the person she saw in him, and her presence made him feel like the person he always wanted to be. 

He’d never had any doubts about her, either. Even through the worst of it, he always knew. It would be Jake Peralta and Amy Santiago until the very end. 

They were going to kick parenting’s ass. Fingers intertwined, eyes closed, head first, can’t lose. 

As long as he had her, everything else would fall into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I stole Amy craving gummy worms idea from a tweet from like? Last summer? I tried to find the tweet (I think it just mentioned her craving gummy candies because of Jake) so I could give credit but I couldn't find it, so if it was your tweet and if you want credit for the tweet/idea or want your twttt linked let me know. ¨̮ Super cute idea, so thank you! 
> 
> Also google is my only source for pregnancy related things, I try to not get too specific about lots of things because I don't know and there's a lot of varying information on the internet—esp when comparing single pregnancies vs. twins. That being said—I completely made up the doctor scene w Jake talking to them to get them to move lmao I don't think it's realistic but it was cute let me live ¨̮ 
> 
> Alsoooo for the sake of this story I just rearranged canon episodes lmao. Captain Peralta is vaguely referenced and expanded on, but in order for it to work here, it would have to be set at the very least before Charges & Specs, maybe even before the Bet. ¨̮ 
> 
> I'm stuck on depth again, so I ended up here. hope you like it! how'd I do w the vulture tho??? jake was getting it from all angles in this chapter, poor baby.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?????


End file.
